Only the Beginning
by hiholly123
Summary: While on his "farewell tour," the Doctor makes an unexpected stop in New York, and is captured by a very famous team of heroes intent on eliminating alien threats. But little do they all know, an old enemy of the Doctor's is lurking in New York, preparing to attack. Too bad for the Doctor and the Avengers - this is only the beginning... *First in The Crossover Collection series*
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, welcome to the first part of The Crossover Collection, as I'm calling it now. For those of you that have no idea what I'm talking about, there's more information in the last chapter of The Crossover, and a little more information than that on my profile. I hope you enjoy this.**

**This part is (clearly) an Avengers/Doctor Who crossover. For our dear Marvel heroes, this is after the 2012 movie. And for the (Eleventh) Doctor, this is during his "farewell tour." Before Closing Time, but quite a ways after The God Complex. So the Ponds will not be in this story, unfortunately. Spoilers for both fandoms up to those points.**

**There are some explainations and descriptions in this story for those unfamiliar with either of these fandoms. You people - sorry if the descriptions and all that are unhelpful. My advice is: when in doubt, google it. There's plenty of information on the web, and google images is always good. So if you need that, please use it, it'll only enrich your reading experience.**

**For you that are unfamiliar with Doctor Who - just make sure that if you search up the interior of the TARDIS, you include "eleventh doctor" in the search bar. Otherwise you might get some confusing information.**

**And last of all, if you haven't watched one of these things, I strongly recommend you do, and not just so you can enjoy this story more - they're both fantastic things, and I love them.**

**So...enjoy. :)**

* * *

The Doctor, the last of the Time Lords, ducked into the TARDIS, breathing hard as he slammed the doors shut. There were muffled _thunks_ as arrows imbedded themselves in the wood, twanging furiously. The Doctor bounded up the steps to the console at the center of the brightly-lit room, and hurriedly set the coordinates for deep space, laughing madly the entire time. Fists began to bang on the doors as arrows were pulled out and replaced with swords. The Doctor was confident they wouldn't break though the seemingly-pliant material. It was only a disguise after all.

The customary wheezing, groaning sound echoed throughout the ship, and the shouts and cursing faded away. A few seconds later, the Doctor popped his head out of the door and met a glittering sea of stars.

"Ha!" he exclaimed. He pulled a leftover arrow out of the 'pull to open' sign of his ship. The surface sealed itself over as if it had never been damaged. The Doctor tossed the arrow out into space, as much as you could toss anything in zero gravity, and watched it float slowly away with a grin. "Old Lizzie the First's still mad at me, eh? Well!"

He spun away from the doors, leaving them gaping open as he waltzed around the console room. The TARDIS started up a Beatles song, and the Doctor plopped down in his handy swing below the console to do some repair work. The doors closed a moment later, seemingly of their own accord. A normal person, if they were unfamiliar with the Doctor's sentient ship, would look fearfully around to find the one who had closed them. The Doctor just started working, slipping his goggles on and swinging absently.

The console room was large, with glass steps leading up to the large glass platform where the console sat, covered in blinking lights and assorted controls that looked an awful lot like they'd been stuck there. There was a typewriter, a clock, and hot and cold water dispensers. The thing was sort of mushroom-shaped, with a large cylinder ascending from the main part, and another one below, where the Doctor was at work with the various wires and other bits that helped the TARDIS run.

"You're getting a big shaggy, old girl," he told her, patting the platfrom above his head. There was a hum from the ship, a bit indignant. "What did you want me to say? I am too, if that makes a difference." He brushed a bit of dark hair out of his face. "We're both getting on in years." There was a sad note to that, but he shook it off.

Things were quiet except for the music, which had now changed to a more rockish type of song. The Doctor wasn't sure what it was called. He would have to find out once he finished.

Then, everything shuddered, and it was almost as if the TARDIS had tipped sideways. The Doctor flew out of his swing and barely avoided smashing against the wall as the ship righted itself again. Instead, he thudded to the floor right beside it. The music, he noted as he scrambled to his feet, had not stopped. He dashed up to the console again, hearts racing. He had just pulled the monitor around to face him when the ship gave another shake, and he smashed his forehead against the console with a yelp.

"We're not entering an alternate universe again, are we, Sexy?" he shouted. There was a screech somewhere in the machinary, and the Doctor winced. "Okay, alright, we'll make it. Don't worry dear." Another tip, and his head collided painfully with the railing behind the console. "OW!" he yelled, and struggled to get back on his feet. But the ship was still shaking, and it took a few seconds before he could get a proper look at the monitor.

"Oh good," he said brightly, "not another universe _again._ What would this have been, the third time since the War? It was just getting-" the alien was cut off as the TARDIS screeched again. "Shut up!" he ordered, staggering around the console and pressing buttons. And then suddenly, everything stopped, including the music, and he banged his head again on the floor as he collapsed. "Ow."

He was still lying on there half an hour later, nursing his injured head and various bruises. He didn't bruise as easily as humans, but if he was unprepared for an extremely dangerous landing, it could get brutal. Finally, after he was certain he didn't have a concussion (and that, he thought, was a miracle in and of itself), he got to his feet and leaned against the console, sighing.

"At least we don't have to deal with an entirely new universe," he said. "That's always a pain." He rubbed his head and worked his jaw a little as he thought. "Well. What have you got for me this time?" And then, just as he was straightening his crimson bowtie and brushing his tweed jacket off, just about at the doors, he turned around, a very confused and indignantly look on his face, and demanded, "But what was with the rough landing? Have I done something to upset you again, because I wasn't the one shooting the arrows, alright, and-" he was cut off as a gust of wind sent him stumbling outside, and the doors shut before he could rush back in and insist on an answer.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at the doors, made an, _I'm watching you,_ gesture, and then spinned in a complete circle before facing forwards and stomping away.

He was in New York City, he noted, and the streets were crowded, as expected. No one had looked twice at the TARDIS landing, though, which was good. It meant, to the Doctor's relief, that the perception filter was still working. That was always a hard bit to repair. Not so much that a perception filter was extremely difficult, but that it wasn't necessarily easy to access. Needless to say, it was very hard to work on machinary when you were soaking wet and all the towels had mysteriously disappeared. The TARDIS could be unruly when she needed fixing.

He shook that off and glanced around. It was sometime in June, and it was pleasantly warm. 2012. Good year, 2012. Lots of new developments.

The Doctor hummed to himself as he walked, taking in all the details of the city. A good stop on his farewell tour, if he said so himself. At this, he felt a pang of suppressed sadness and horror, and for a moment let it fight past his carefully constructed walls and crawl its way to the front of his mind. He didn't have much time until he had to go and die in 2011 Utah. Until then, he'd decided to do whatever he could to finish up in the universe. Right whatever wrongs were the most pressing. Say goodbye to a few friends (or not-really-friends, like Elizabeth the First). See the greatest sights in the universe before his time was up. New York City certainly counted, especially with the Empire State Building finished and gleaming in the sunlight.

He pushed everything back down and resumed his cheerful humming, determined to wait until whatever problem there was in New York City was solved and he was alone to dwell on things. It wouldn't do to be in a puddle of tears if there was an evil alien overlord attempting to take over New York. Those were always tricky to do through the cloud of depression. He couldn't let his pending doom get him down, could he? At least he knew he probably wouldn't die here. That was always a plus.

"So why, exactly, are we all here?" Tony Stark drawled, his feet propped up on the conference table in Stark Tower. Around the table were the rest of the Avengers: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Steve Rogers. Everyone looked expectently to Nick Fury, awaiting his reply.

The man with the eyepatch met all of their eyes. "There are reports of an alien in New York, which is why we're in your tower, Stark. It appeared in a blue telephone box, in the middle of the city. Naturally, you understand S.H.E.I.L.D.'s interest." He gave a wry smile. "We want to detain it and make sure it's not a threat. Thor's here to help us with that, as well as figuring out its species."

"What do you want us to do?" Bruce Banner asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Are you expecting another battle?"

Fury frowned. "Not if we're careful," he said. "Dr. Banner, you and Mr. Stark need to have a room for our guest. Secure, easy to guard. Barton, Romanoff, and Rogers will catch the alien. Thor will determine its species and threat level. Is that acceptable?"

"Who's gonna guard the cell?" Tony inquired, idly tracing patterns on the table.

"I was thinking of bringing a few agents in," Fury said, a tad icily.

Tony looked mockingly affronted. "In _my _tower?" he exclaimed. "How rude!"

Fury was not impressed. "We won't touch your precious things, Stark," he growled. "And we're bringing in our own tech."

"I'm sure," Tony smirked, but got up and sauntered out the door, beckoning for Bruce to follow him. "Let's go build that high-security _guest room_, then, shall we?"

Used to his antics, the remaining heroes ignored the two geniuses as they left, still focusing on Fury.

"When do we move out?" Romanoff asked.

"Immediately," Fury said. "Your suits and equipment are down the hall. There's also a picture of your target for each of you." He motioned toward the door.

Romanoff, Barton, and Rogers exchanged looks before they stood and left the room, none of them speaking but all silently hoping the same thing - that this wouldn't turn out like Loki.

* * *

**AN: I'm not really happy with this ending. It's too abrupt. Oh well. I am at least five chapters ahead of myself as of posting this, so no worries about that. I'll update in a couple of days. Also, Infiltration is still being worked on. I'm not yet ahead of myself on that, but soon, I promise. I'm having a bit of a block with Chapter 9...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all for all the good reviews, and follows and favorites. I'm so happy you guys like it, I was a little worried about how this would work out.**

**Well, I've devised a bit of a twist, going away from the usual setup. And by that, I mean Thor's relationship and opinions of the Doctor. Most stories, they're friends, or at least, Thor knows of the Doctor and respects him for all the good things he's done. But if the Asgardians really knew the Time Lords, or had heard enough legends about them, they would more than likely know what the Time Lords thought of the Doctor, especially without the man himself intruding, since he's always so busy saving the universe...**

* * *

Perched atop the low-ish building nearest the alien's mysterious blue box (a ship more likely, from everything they'd witnessed so far), Natasha Romanoff couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at the geeky-looking man - well, alien, actually - they were supposed to detain. Floppy hair, a bowtie, a tweed jacket, and suspenders? Really?

Steve had elected to play civilian, loitering by the building Natasha was on top of and pretending not to notice it, as everyone else who passed it did. Except, they really didn't seem to acknowledge its presence, simply stepping around it and calmly going on their way as if it didn't exist. Alien technology, manipulating the crowd.

The alien approached the police box, whistling faintly. People glanced its way - Natasha had elected to call it an 'it' for now; it could be a girl, after all - every now and then, but only as they would look at any other person traversing the streets. However the alien was disguising itself - if it was a disguise - it was fooling everyone. But as it got closer to his box, the people's gazes simply slid over it the same way they were its ship. So it wasn't just the box - there was a field around it. Probably a pretty small one, seeing as the alien was pretty close.

Rogers, in his position in front of the building, slowly made his way over to the alien, who was now scrambling in its jacket for something and muttering under its breath. It somehow managed to be elbow-deep in the pocket, and seemed about to find whatever it was searching for when Steve appeared beside it, clapping a hand on its shoulder.

"Hey!" the alien yelled, stumbling out of the way and staring at the hero. Steve met its eyes with a polite smile. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You're not really British, are you," Rogers said. It sounded nothing like a question, although he did manage to sound friendly.

The alien frowned at him. "How did you guess?" it asked. Natasha almost expected it to drop to accent once it was found out, but the British lilt remained. It had probably learned English in Britain, then.

"We've been watching you," Steve replied. Natasha saw him tensing, preparing to attack if he had to. The alien seemed to notice this as well, as it hastily held up two index fingers, as if about to explain something.

"I don't suppose that when you say 'we,' you mean the voices in your head, do you? You're not schizophrenic?"

Steve didn't relax his stance. "No," he answered. "Would you mind coming with me?"

"Yes, actually, believe it or not." It actually looked a little amused then, lowering its hands. "I would mind. Cooperating isn't exactly my strong suit, if you can believe that."

Clint's voice, slightly tinny, sounded in the communicator in Natasha's ear. "Should I tranq it?"

"Not yet," Natasha murmured. "Give them a minute."

Steve spread his arms, appearing to be relaxed now. But Natasha knew he was ready to defend himself or attack, should the situation call for it. "There's no need to be alarmed," he reassured the alien. "I'm just supposed to take you with me. I'd like to avoid a conflict, if possible."

The thing that looked like a man made a vague gesture as it spoke. "So would I, actually, but I've got to visit some friends." It pointed to the box at its back and took a slow step backwards. "I'd love to come with you, but I'm really quite busy. I could come back in a little while, if that's fine."

Rogers smiled wryly. "You and I both know you won't." He stepped forward.

"I do try to keep my promises, honestly. That doesn't always work out, sure, but I really would try this time. I've got a lot of broken promises to make up for, so really this would be really helpful in an attempt to start keep promises instead of breaking them, do you see?" As it babbled on, the alien slowly moved a hand behind its back to the handle of the box. Steve didn't seem to notice, paying too much attention to the alien's words.

Natasha knew that if the alien got any further, it would escape. She blurted, "Clint," and was rewarded with a small tranqualizer bullet embedded in the neck of their target.

The alien's speech slurred to a stop as it slid to the ground. Steve rushed forward, lifting it into his arms before it completely hit the concrete. It's eyelids were fluttering closed as Natasha leaped down to ground level and took a close look at it. Then it relaxed fully in Steve's arms with a gusty sigh.

And no one even looked their way throughout the entire ordeal.

"Call Fury," Steve said, adjusting his hold on the alien. "Tell him to get this box picked up and that we're on our way back."

Natasha nodded. "Clint," she began over the comm, but he interrupted her.

"I've got it," the archer said. "I'll head back first. See you there." He disconnected, and Natasha saw the figure of her friend clambering down from his rooftop position.

"That's done then," Steve commented, and then turned back the way they'd come. "Let's go, Agent."

They began walking back to Stark tower.

* * *

When the Doctor awoke, his head was pounding.

He gave a strangled sort of groan, and stirred, turning sluggishly onto his side. He didn't open his eyes, instead paying attention to the feel of the thing he was lying on. Cushy, soft, with a thin covering over the surface. A bed then. With a large, very comfortable pillow under his head.

He didn't quite feel rested, but he wasn't as tired as he had been for the past few days, at any rate. The thought crossed his mind that he'd probably like to go back to sleep now. Maybe he had a hangover. He couldn't really remember getting plastered, but he supposed that was what he got for drinking too much. He'd probably stumbled back to the TARDIS and been immediately directed to his room, where he'd simply collapsed in bed and instantly fallen asleep. His shoes were still on, so he'd forgotten to even kick those off.

The Time Lord sighed, but opened his eyes a crack. Yes, he was lying on a bed. The pillow was obscuring a little bit of his vision, but he didn't think he'd be able to lift his head at all, so he just ignored it. Beside the bed was a small table with a tall glass of water on it. The Doctor's mouth felt suddenly very dry, but when he lifted his arm is was leaden and clumsy, and he nearly knocked the glass over. He gave up on that for the moment, instead turning his attention to the walls. To his confusion, they were clear glass, and there was a man standing outside. There was no door in sight.

The most recent events rushed back to him. He'd been heading back to the TARDIS, hoping to head off somewhere else when there was no threat apparent, when he'd been approached by a muscled man, who had been friendly in his requests for the Doctor to come with him. The Doctor had nearly escaped into the TARDIS when there had been a sharp jab in his neck, and his entire body had turned to Jell-O and reality had become slippery and distant. The last thing he'd been aware of was being caught by the man, and then everything had disappeared into black.

He groaned at the memory, wanting to just push his face into the pillow and forget the world for a minute. But someone was knocking on the glass, and he couldn't ignore that with how loud it was. He briefly wondered if this was how fish felt when their tanks were being tapped. He hoped not, as he really didn't need guilt over tapping fish tanks on top of everything else.

"Whad'you want?" he mumbled.

"To talk," the man outside his room said simply, lowering his knocking hand and clasping both hands in front of him. The Doctor belatedly noticed he had an eyepatch.

It was a struggle to sit up, and the act took a good minute to accomplish, but the Doctor felt a tiny bit better once he was sitting. His head was hurting a bit less now, to his relief. "I guess it would be pointless to ask why I'm here," he said.

"We just noticed you arrive in this city," the man told him, looking him straight in the eyes as he spoke. "And we wanted to make sure you weren't a threat."

The Doctor gave the biggest grin he could manage. "Alright then. I'm not a threat."

The man gave him a shrewd look. "You know that's not what I meant." He began walking lazily around the oustide of the room, which the Doctor realized was circular, and that his bed was in the center of. "It won't take long, if you cooperate."

"Why were you monitoring the city?" the Doctor asked instead of responding to the last statement. "Was there a recent incident?"

The man didn't reply, just stopping his walk and meeting the Doctor's eyes again. "We have a specialist here," he said. "He's going to take a look at you, conduct an interview, and then we'll do some examinations. Then, if you don't pose a threat, you're free to go."

"Specialist," the Doctor echoed. "No human could-"

"I didn't say he was human," the man interrupted with a smirk. The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but closed it upon hearing a loud hissing noise and seeing that a part of the glass was seperating itself from the rest of the wall.

A long-haired man with silver, black, and gold clothing and a flowing red cape entered the room, carrying a large, almost mallet-like object in one hand.

"Hello," the man announced. He too sounded British, but the Doctor was aware that he was anything but. "I am Thor Odinson, of Asgard. Name yourself."

"Asgard?" the Doctor repeated. He was doing an awful lot of repeating lately. "Never been there. The land of the gods, yeah?"

"Correct," the Asgardian rumbled. He set his hammer down beside him. "Stand before me and name yourself."

The sluggish, almost drunken movements were pretty much gone at this point, as was the head-pounding. Slowly, the Doctor rose to his feet. But he didn't move from his place next to the bed. He wasn't about to be ordered around by someone in a cape, even if said person was allegedly a god.

"Fine then," Thor growled. He stalked over to stand in front of the Doctor. "Now. Name yourself!"

"Let me guess," the Doctor deadpanned, "or face your wrath?"

The other alien had a faint snarl on his face now. "Do not disrespect me, you puny creature. Name yourself, and no harm will come to you."

"Oh fine," the Doctor sighed, voice layered with sarcasm, "since you asked nicely." He held out a hand with a beaming smile. "I'm the Doctor." Thor had an expectant expression now, but the Doctor saw the glint of wariness somewhere in his eyes. Would Asgard have heard of him, then? He hoped not. What they might have heard probably wouldn't be good. Asgard had, in its past, apparently been a bit familiar with the Time Lords. Before the Doctor's time, unfortunately.

"Of?" Thor prompted when the Doctor didn't say anything more.

"Of Gallifrey," the Time Lord finally admitted. And then he had to duck as a punch swung at him, full-force. He skittered over to the wall, nearly losing his balence. When he finally met Thor's face, it was enraged and just a little bit scared.

"Time Lord," the Asgardian thundered. "Your kind were thought to be dead."

The Doctor gave a noncommital shrug, hearts racing from the quick movement. "We were thought to be a lot of things. Dead is one of them, I suppose. Nonexistant is another, but you Asgardians are pretty high up on the food chain yourselves, so y'know. Two legendary species, we're bound to know of the other's existance. Right?"

Thor was glaring at him. "The Time Lords were respected," he roared. "But ghost stories were told of _you_, Doctor. Merciless killer. Manipulative, destructive, dangerous to all that cross your path."

The Doctor couldn't deny that that stung. He almost found it a little hard to breathe, but managed to hide it. _I'm going to my death soon, _he wanted to say. _Just forgive an old man his sins this one time._

"Taking children from their homes and sending them to their deaths," Thor continued in the same absolutely furious tone. "Seducing and killing and brutalizing. Killing, maiming the most unlucky."

Now the Doctor couldn't hide a wince. "That's a bit exaggerated, I think," he said. "Maiming seems a little-"

"Silence!" Thor shouted. And though the Doctor had never been one to be intimidated by yelling, on top of the accusations it was a sobering thing. He quieted and closed his eyes. Nobody said anything for a while, although the Doctor was plenty prepared for Thor's fist to show itself again and nail him in the jaw.

He started when a very warm human hand gripped his arm, and he was cuffed. He looked up and met the eyes of the same man who'd caught him by the TARDIS. The man was blond, with warm blue eyes. But those eyes were cold and accusatory now, full of disgust. The Doctor felt like maybe he should apologize. But he held his tongue.

The man hauled him to the bed, and sat him down on it. The Doctor's mouth felt dry again now, but reaching for the water seemed like it might be a little too much to risk at the moment.

"I'll be back in a minute," the man said icily. "Don't move." The Doctor saw Thor standing by the place where the wall had opened up before, and after another loud hiss, both men left the cell. That's what it was, the Doctor knew for sure now. A cell.

Well, at least he could take a drink now. There was no one around to potentially punch him for it.

* * *

**The Doctor has gotten himself into a bit of a spot, hasn't he?**

**The relationships between the Avengers and Doctor Who characters in this story will depend a lot on Thor's limited knowledge of the Doctor, just for your information. And since Thor pretty much hates our favorite Time Lord's guts, there's going to be a bit of conflict between characters (which is always fun writing).**

**I'd like to know what you think about my little twist, please, as well as your opinion of the story so far in general. I'm really looking forward to showing you all the rest of this fic, and then the next few stories, all leading up to The Crossover. Let me tell you - I've done a bit of planning for it, and everything is exciting me beyond comprehension. I hope you all will like it. :)**

**Well, please review, anyway. And also, I have a question for you all, if you want to answer it:**

**Which is your favorite, Doctor Who or The Avengers, and why? And what is your opinion of the other side of this crossover?**

**Personally, Doctor Who's my favorite, mostly because there's more for me to watch and enjoy. And also, it's just awesome. Not that the Avengers isn't - I really love that, too, and pretty much anything Marvel. :)**

**Thanks again, everyone! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter, ahoy!**

**(Note: I forgot to bring my Harry Potter book to my dad's to work on Infiltration, but hopefully next week. Sorry those of you waiting for that)**

* * *

When Steve returned from his brief meeting with the rest of his team, who were watching from the next room via a hidden camera, the apparently malicious alien called the Doctor was tapping absently on the bedside table, his expression distant and a little bit distressed.

Thor, after everyone was in attendance, had given the Avengers and Nick Fury a little more information on the alien they now held captive. Apparently, the Doctor was a renegade Time Lord, who, for fun, liked to gallivant around the universe and cause trouble. Mainly, killing and destroying. According to Thor, he was a shame to his race, and was exiled in his younger years for interfering in universal affairs. The Asgardian had also made sure to mention that other Time Lords were behaved and civilized, and the Doctor did not reflect anything on the culture of their planet.

"We should also be handsomely rewarded for returning this lowlife to his people," Thor had added. According to him, the Time Lords were thought to be dead, but since the Doctor was here that almost certainly meant that they were still around. Thor seemed a little excited about that, and had promised more information on the Doctor's species later on.

The Doctor hadn't noticed Steve approaching yet. His gaze was focused somewhere beyond his room, away from the Captain, and every once and awhile he would give a little sigh.

Steve entered the room, and the alien's eyes locked on him. He watched as Steve walked to stand in front of him.

"I'm Steve," Captain America announced, not bothering to hide much of his disgust at the murderer currently sitting in front of him.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor," the murderer greeted, having the nerve to grin. "Are you here to punch me for drinking the water?"

Steve wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, so he ignored it. "You're clearly a threat," he told the alien, "so you'll stay here until we can contact your people to come and collect you." Steve wasn't sure exactly when it had become normal to talk about aliens so casually.

The Doctor's face fell minutely, but enough that the soldier in front of him was able to tell. "Good luck with that," he said. And although he didn't sound sullen, he was certainly less cheerful than before. Steve felt a little bit proud that he'd been able to slightly cow what was apparently a dangerous individual. He was well aware that it could be an act; but it would have to be a very good one indeed.

"We'll be checking in on you, too," Steve added. "And there is a camera in the room. So don't try anything."

The alien gave a cheery mock-salute. "Yessir!"

Steve glared at him for a moment, and then left the room, shaking his head.

Sleep eluded the Doctor that night. He normally wouldn't have needed any in the first place, but being a prisoner had always taken a bit of a toll on him, especially on the first few nights. And paired with the tranqualizer and the fact that he hadn't gotten proper sleep in months, he was pretty exhausted.

There was nothing for him to do, either. He'd been robbed of his sonic screwdriver and psychic paper and most everything else in his pockets. He thought there might be a yo-yo and a banana left in one of them, but he wasn't bothered to check.

He sat up in bed, restless and wanting nothing more than to be back in the TARDIS, where there were repairs to be done, and a library and a pool and a bowling alley hidden away somewhere. He could distract himself if he was reading a nice Agatha Christy novel, or doing laps in the pool with the music turned up so loud he couldn't think properly, or bowling. Or playing chess, that would be good too. There wasn't a chess table in sight in his cell.

"Once upon a time," he said aloud, "there was a madman with a box. He was trapped in a beyond-boring cell with glass walls, and and he thought he might scream he was so bored. The End."

"Very original," a new voice said from behind him. The Doctor whirled around to see a middle-aged man with dark hair and a purple shirt standing there, with a slightly amused look on his face. "You could write a book."

The Doctor turned to face him completely, attempting to gesture with his cuffed hands and failing. "Do you know," he said, "how hard it is to sleep with handcuffs on? It's really not very pleasant." He gave up on the gestures and let his hands fall to his lap.

"I'm not going to take them off."

"I know. I just thought you might want to know. For future reference. You never know when you'll need this kind of information."

"Is that a threat?" More amusement.

"No." The Doctor's exhaustion seemed a lot more potent just then. He was a bit tired of dealing with hostile humans, especially when they were mocking him outside of his cell. He was bored, and tired, and the depression he'd pushed off earlier was creeping up on him.

Now the man was curious. "You don't act much like a mass-murderer," he noted.

"Well, thank you." The Doctor summoned his best grin.

"I'm Bruce," the man revealed.

"Hello then, Bruce. Are you here to make sure I don't go crazy and try to escape?"

The man stuffed his hands in his pockets and took a good long look at the Doctor before saying, "No. I couldn't sleep either."

The Doctor could accept that. There was a tiny bit of darkness lurking in the back of Bruce's eyes - a look that he often saw in himself when he looked in the mirror. Although, on a grander scale, naturally. More than 900 years of experience and all that.

"You look like a smart man, Bruce," the Doctor finally said. "So tell me: why is there an Asgardian here?"

Bruce shrugged. "Thor ended up on Earth a while back. I don't know how - I wasn't there at that point. He made some friends, there was a battle, that kind of thing. He went back home. Then his brother Loki turned psychotic and came to Earth, and Thor followed him to try and stop him. Now he's accepted here. Among us, anyway." He then came very close to the glass, his nose nearly brushing it. "Now you tell me: why are _you_ here?"

"Holiday," the Doctor replied immediately.

Bruce lifted his eyebrows. "Really," he said.

"No," the Time Lord admitted. "Actually, I'm not sure. The TARDIS decided to drop me off in New York. It was a pretty bumpy ride." He winced and rubbed his head a little.

"And the TARDIS is?" Bruce prompted.

The Doctor frowned a little. "The blue box," he answered, a little hesitantly.

"Your ship," the human gathered. "Right."

"Don't touch it," the Doctor said. "Really, don't."

"Is it rigged to explode?"

"No. But I'd really just like it if you left it alone."

Bruce shrugged again. "I'm afraid I can't do that. Who knows what else it is. Could be a weapon."

The Doctor frowned at him. "I don't do weapons. And I actually don't like to hurt people, for your information. Also, seducing isn't really my style. Is that what Thor said earlier? Seducing? I honestly don't try to seduce people, but-" he cut off when he saw Bruce starting to slowly wander away. "Wait, where are you-"

"I'm off to try and get some more sleep," the man told him. "We'll get in touch with your people tomorrow."

The Doctor felt a little stab of guilt. "I really don't think you should, actually," he warned. Bruce just waved him off, nearly disappeared into the shadows. "You might be disappointed with what you find!" the Doctor called, and seconds later, a door slammed shut.

_Or don't find,_ he thought with a sigh.

* * *

**I got several reviews saying that they wished the Doctor had defended himself more in the last chapter. Maybe he should have, a little bit, but I think enough of what Thor was saying was true, at least partially. He is manipulative sometimes, and he does cause destruction, even if it is accidental. He has murdered billions. Although the legends did exaggerate some of his worst deeds (he doesn't brutalize, I don't think), there were nuggets of truth that I think would bring the Doctor down a bit, especially so close to his death.**

**Anyway, he did defend himself a bit against Bruce's accusations, and addressed part of what Thor said that I consider to be almost entirely untrue. And he was going to say more before Dr. Banner walked off, so. He will set the record straight eventually, as I'm sure you've guessed, but he hasn't really gotten a huge chance to yet.**

**Anyway, please tell me what you think. I update faster with reviews ushering me along, I believe. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Going to save the bigish AN for the end so you all can read.**

**Allons-y! :)**

* * *

The next day dawned sunny and warm, finding the members of the Avengers gathered around the cell currently being occupied by their alien guest. Said alien guest was looking tense and exhausted, with an untouched tray of food on the bedside table.

"So how are we gonna do this?" Agent Barton asked, his arms crossed as he leaned on the glass. "These aliens don't have phones, do they?"

"Don't be ridiculous," the Doctor snapped. There were slight bags under his eyes and a darkness in his expression that hadn't been there the day before. Bruce had to wonder what he'd gotten up to after their conversation.

Thor shot a look at the alien, who glared stonily back. The Asgardian then said, "It was said that a Time Lord could be summoned for a brief time by slamming a grand weapon onto the ground."

Tony raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Bruce. "Well that's very sophisticated," he smirked.

"It only works for those of Asgard," Thor added, turning his look on Tony for a moment. "It is better with more than one, but I will be fine on my own." He then tilted his head to the ceiling and cried, "I request the presence of a Time Lord of Gallifrey!" and raised his hammer, sending it crashing down onto the floor moments later.

Nothing happened.

"The floor's going to to need fixing," Tony remarked. In fact, there was a very large broken area in the tile. Bruce nodded in agreement. Natasha, Clint, and Fury just looked at Thor, unimpressed.

"I do not understand," Thor rumbled, bewildered. "It worked for my father. He told me of the time he summoned a Time Lord for assistance and was rewarded."

The Doctor had also been staring at the dent in the floor, but looked up briefly at that. "Something's going on," he mused, pulling absently on his handcuffs. Then his expression turned serious. "Something's wrong."

"Does it have to do with the Time Lords?" Steve asked, staring down at their prisoner. The Doctor just shook his head. Bruce, from his encounter with the alien and from watching his interaction with the others, knew that the Doctor was being quieter than usual. Something really was wrong. Either that, or he was messing with them, but that seemed unlikely.

"Why do they ignore me?" Thor demanded of the Doctor. But the Time Lord continued to stare at the floor, unresponsive.

There was a long space of time where no one said much of anything. Nothing but murmurs and shrugs and exchanged looks. Then, finally, the Doctor said, "I'm here for a reason. Something's wrong."

"You already said that last part," Natasha pointed out, mimicking Clint's crossed-arms stance.

"What is it," the alien muttered, "what is it, what is it, what is it-" he abruptly smacked his forehead "-think!

Nick Fury approached the cell. "What are you talking about?" he questioned.

The Doctor struggled to make a gesture. Clearly, the handcuffs were inhibiting his storytelling abilities. He appeared extremely unhappy with that. "There's something wrong," he explained, eventually giving up on the movements. "Something's hiding here, in New York."

"Is it going to be a problem?" Tony inquired.

The Doctor attempted the gesture again. "I don't know," he said, exasperated.

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" Fury asked, motioning Tony away so that he could better speak to the prisoner.

"It depends on what they are," the Doctor said, still obviously frustrated. "Which I don't know. As I've already said. Are you not paying attention?"

Thor had picked up his hammer at this point, and waved it in the air, startling a very irritated Natasha away from him. "This does not answer my question," he thundered. "Why are your people ignoring my request for an audience?"

The Doctor was now as irritated as Natasha. "How should I know?" he asked. "They're prissy, smug idiots." But even as he said that, Bruce saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes.

Thor was looking almost murderous now. "They are a respectable people!" he cried. "Do not disrespect them, you peice of scum!"

The Doctor fiddled with his bowtie as he spoke next, ignoring the Asgardian's threats and fury. "I know what you're going to ask next: how do you find out what they are?" He paused for effect, then started off, getting the words out at high speed, motioning as wildly as he could manage while cuffed. "Well, you don't, actually. You don't have the technology to figure it out without investigating, which I wouldn't recommend since we don't know how dangerous they are. I could look into it, though, if I could get some equipment from my ship. Which would require a bit more freedom, naturally. Of course you'd want me to be under supervision, but I can deal with that. But a nice computer from the TARDIS, and my sonic, and probably that little pad of paper you took from me, that would do fine. Since they're already here, we'll have to work fast, who knows when they'll make their move. Probably soon, so!" He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, looking far too gleeful. "Who's going to uncuff me?"

Fury was a combination of amused and annoyed. "You assume we _are_ going to uncuff you," he said dryly.

The Doctor's face didn't fall an inch. "Well, yeah. You need my help, or who knows what will happen to the Earth?" He actually looked a bit thrilled.

"You're crazy if you think we're letting you out of that cell," Clint said.

Bruce watched as the alien frowned a little. "I thought you wouldn't want Earth to be overrun, though," he said. "I don't think anyone in their right minds would want their planet to be overrun with who-knows-what, actually. It's sort of a 'this is my planet, I want it to be mine' type of thing."

"We understand that," Fury told him, his expression unreadable. "But I'm sure we'll do fine without your help. This team is good at what they do."

The Doctor gave everyone a searching look, as if examining their souls and abilities from his position behind the glass. "I'd agree with that, I guess," he allowed. "And there's a good chance this won't be the worst you face, I'm sure. But whatever they are, they're probably dangerous. And there's a good chance that they'll know me." He had gotten to his feet now, and was walking over to the glass, staring at all of them through it. "If I say the right thing, they'll run."

Thor stepped forward to talk. "Time Lord," he growled, "you find joy in destruction, death, and pain. You could be inventing this problem to get to our systems and destroy us. There is bloodlust in your eyes, I can see it!" The Asgardian stabbed a finger at the Doctor's face, drawing everyone's attention to his gaze.

There was a guard over his eyes now that Thor had pointed to them. It was all too possible that Thor was telling the truth. All around him, Bruce could feel his friends tensing, despite the fact that they were safe outside the cell. Fury was the only one still relaxed, his hands behind his back, seemingly carefree.

"Please," the Doctor said in a low voice. "Let me help you. Believe me: everything in those stories Thor heard as a child is exaggerated. I don't like death. Who likes death?"

"Most insane maniacs," Fury said.

The Doctor seemed to wilt a little. "Fine. Believe what you want - that doesn't make it true. You can come get me any time. I'll be ready. Be careful," he warned as he backed towards his bed. "This may not be the worst thing to happen to you, but there's going to be a good chance of danger." He sat down on the mattress.

"Thanks for the warning," Fury said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned in place and started off out of the room, motioning for the rest to follow him. They did, although somewhat reluctantly, with Thor hanging back an extra second to give the Doctor a cautionary glare before the door slammed shut.

* * *

Hours and hours later, a few minutes after seven, Steve was sent to the Doctor's cell with a tray of food. There was a cup of water, a few slices of turkey, and a banana - not much, but what Fury had said was plenty for their prisoner to live off of for a few days while they sorted everything out.

The alien had been sitting up, awake and alert the last time Steve had passed by the glass room, but was now slumped onto the pillow, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. He looked almost frighteningly pale, and his dark hair was a sharp contrast with his skin. If he was human, no matter how evil, Steve would have felt the slight inclination to sneak him in a little something more so he didn't die on them, but for all he knew this was normal for the Doctor.

Steve didn't go in right away, choosing instead to hold the tray for a moment as he looked onto the alien. Their prisoner's feet were still on the floor, and his arms were dangling off the side of the bed in a clearly uncomfortable way. The Doctor's blue bowtie was skewed, and at some point he had kicked off his shoes, revealing clean black socks. Steve had never liked the cliched idea of someone looking young while they slept, but in this case he couldn't help but admit that it was true. The Doctor appeared younger while he was sleeping, but also very tired. And when his brow creased and he frowned in his sleep, he suddenly switched from being a child to being an exhausted old man, caught up in something he really wasn't ready for anymore.

Shaking off the thoughts, Steve tapped the area in the wall where the door was hidden, and after doing some brief DNA-reading thing that Tony had attempted to explain once, it hissed open and allowed him in.

The Doctor jerked upright very suddenly, looking very much like he'd been jumped on by a tiger, with wild eyes and his mouth open as if to call for help or scream. Steve ignored him, placing the tray on the bedside table and clearing away the remnants of the last meal, which had hardly been touched.

"You shouldn't sneak up on an old man like that, Mr. Rogers," the Doctor scolded, still looking a little spooked and picking up a slice of turkey when Steve stepped away. He unpeeled the banana and took a bite.

"How do you know my last name?" Steve wondered, feeling the prickle of suspicion in his chest.

The Doctor gave him an amused look. "Tony Stark told me," he answered after he'd swallowed. "We were talking about you. And Dr. Banner, but that's none of your business."

"Getting cozy with Tony, then?"

The Doctor grinned. "Good rhyming, Steve, very nice. Not exactly rhyming, I mean, but close enough that it counts." He seemed to be ignoring the rest of the meal, tossing the banana peel carelessly back onto the tray.

They had all been warned by Thor that they shouldn't dawdle in the Doctor's cell, or he might pounce on them. But Steve had been assured that he, being the perfect soldier and all that, would probably be fine.

So he thought maybe he'd hang around, get the Doctor to trust him. Then perhaps the alien would open up about his purpose on Earth, thinking Steve to be a friend.

With the banana finished, the Doctor turned to the water, and Steve watched him gulp it down like this was the first time he'd had any in weeks.

"So, Steve Rogers," the Doctor said, lifting his legs up onto the bed and reclining into his pillow, "how is life?"

Steve had the thought that maybe he ought to go, no matter how his plan to befriend the Doctor would suffer, but forced himself to stay. "Fine. What about you?"

To his surprise, the Doctor's easy smile turned bitter. Naturally, Steve knew that being imprisoned would be a bit troubling, but the look on the Time Lord's face made him think that this had little to do with being trapped in the glass room. "I've been better," the alien admitted.

"This is what you get for being a hostile force," Steve told him, just in case it was just captivity making the alien upset. "If you weren't, then you would be walking free right now."

The Doctor's grin went more bittersweet then, and he folded his hands over his stomach. "Things aren't as black and white as you make them out to be, Steve," he said. "There's a very large gray area. Which is, unfortunately for me, where I happen to lie quite a lot."

"Kidnapping, killing, and destruction don't seem very gray to me," Steve remarked.

The alien attempted to spread his arms helplessly, but the handcuffs prevented him from getting very far. "I can't help what you've heard. Thor's only got _part_ of the bad things I've done, fortunately, but he's completely skipped out on the good stuff."

Steve went very cold at the first part of the last statement. "Only _part_?" he echoed.

The Doctor winced. "Probably wasn't wise to include that bit," he said. "But I have done good things." Steve could see a certain desperation in his eyes now, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Steve.

The Captain nearly asked, 'like what?' but decided not to, choosing instead to point to the tray and say, "Why aren't you eating?"

"I did, just now," the Doctor replied, gesturing toward the banana peel.

"Yeah," Steve allowed, "but you haven't eaten anything else. The most you've done is drink some water, and eat that banana. Why?"

The alien on the bed shrugged, looking self-conscious now. He stared at his hands. "Not hungry," he said after a moment.

"We haven't poisoned any of it."

The Doctor shot a 'duh' look at him. "I know."

"Then why aren't you eating it? No one can survive on one banana for a few days. Not even an alien."

This argument was not disputed. "Why do you care?" the Doctor asked. "I was under the impression that you all hated me. Except maybe Tony, he was nice enough. And Dr. Banner doesn't seem so bad either. Not that any of you really seem _bad_, but-"

Steve cut him off. "I don't want someone to die because I didn't investigate why they were starving themselves."

"I'm not hungry."

"Maybe not now, but you have to eat more than a banana, or you will be."

The Doctor sighed. "You don't know anything about my species," he said. "How do you know I won't be perfectly fine on just a banana? Banana's are good!" He looked a little pained, especially at that last sentence.

"Because bananas aren't the most filling things, and even if you saved the energy, it wouldn't be enough to keep you going for more than a day."

"You don't know anything about my species," the prisoner repeated, a little angrily this time.

Steve crossed his arms. "Then enlighten me," he invited, trying not to be as hostile as he wanted to be.

The Doctor's lip curled just slightly. "Two hearts," he began after a moment of tension, "a lower core body temperature, and I have more stamina than humans."

"That doesn't mean a banana is enough," Steve insisted, determined not to budge an inch in his position. "Tell me more." Maybe he could get something more out of the alien. Thor had been fairly forthcoming about the Time Lords, but there were some things he hadn't divulged. Steve had noticed, however, that he kept getting slightly pitying looks from the Asgardian, and Dr. Banner. Tony had once seemed about to address the issue, but he had been dragged away by Bruce before he could completely get it out. All of them had refused to tell him anything. Steve had given up on it after hours of fruitless, pestering questions. But maybe he could figure it out now.

The Doctor contemplated things for a minute, looking at his hands again, but more thoughtfully than in the lack-of-a-better-option way he'd been staring at them earlier. "We're touch telepaths," he said at last, but he didn't look up to meet Steve's eyes. He seemed to catch the alarm that blazed in the soldier beside his bed, because he quickly added, "I don't just look into people's heads whenever I touch them, though - that's just rude." He looked as if he got that reaction a lot. Steve slowly relaxed, but was still wary, of course. "Besides, it only works really well at certain contact points. You can still do it by holding someone's hand, of course, but it's really only perfectly effective if you touch the inside of their wrist-" he indicated the spot he was speaking of, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling now "-or their temples, or forehead, or..." he trailed off, then blushed. "Well, anywhere on the face does well. The wrist is really not very good, but it works in situations when you have to be discreet."

Steve motioned for him to stop for a moment, as it appeared that the alien was about to go on another long explanation. "Okay," he said, "so telepathy. That's...new."

A smug sort of grin was his response. "For you, maybe," the Doctor said. "Humans." His smile was fond, but Steve wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not. "We have time sense, too," the Doctor went on. "I know the exact time, down to the second. And sort of a GPS type of thing, except not really. Forget that." It was as if he was letting something off his chest, Steve noticed. Relieving some great weight that he'd been carrying for ages, unable to let go. And Captain America just had to wonder what it was.

"All that's epecially useful when travelling, though," the Doctor was saying now, with a sort of excitement in his eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Usually knowing exactly where I am, and when. For instance, New York City, 2012, after-"

"Wait," Steve interrupted, heart pounding. "What do you mean when?"

The Doctor stared at him for a moment, and then said, "Did you not understand? Nobody explained it to you?" At Steve's blank look, the alien went on, "Time Lord. Lord of Time. I'm a time traveller."

Steve felt a swell of hope like he hadn't felt in ages, exploding in his chest, making his heart race. He nearly had to catch his breath.

"Is there a problem?" the Doctor inquired, looking concerned.

"I was trapped in ice," Steve said, "for 70 years. I was supposed to dance with a girl."

The Time Lord's face softened. "Oh," he said. "That's a bit tragic."

"Could you take me? Just one dance, that's all." His fists were clenched, his knuckles white, and it felt like his heart would stop from anticipation and pure hope.

It couldn't possibly be heartbreak in the Doctor's eyes, could it? "I'm sorry, Steve," he said. "I can't."

Steve closed his eyes. "Why not?"

"First of all, I'm stuck in here. But second of all, there are laws. Even if I was a renegade, I have to uphold them. I broke them once and..." the alien trailed off. "I'm sorry."

"I'd better go," Steve said. The disappointment welling in his gut was like a black hole, sucking the hope from before inside. His chest hurt.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said again.

Steve just shook his head and walked as calmly as he could out of the cell. In the midst of his disappointment, he never noticed that the Doctor had said, 'I was,' instead of, 'I am.'

But it's not like it wasn't a well-deserved feeling.

* * *

**Awh, Steve. I thought maybe the others would want to protect him from the fact that he wouldn't ever have that dance. Of course, Tony did try to mention it, but yeah.**

**Anyway, I got several reviews along the lines of, "they should talk to Torchwood or UNIT or something." Well, I honestly didn't think of that, sorry. My only logic is that the Doctor dies in 2011, and it's 2012, so technically he's dead. But he is a time traveller, so that doesn't really work. I like to think that maybe the Doctor doesn't want UNIT's help on this one, and as for Torchwood...well, I haven't seen Miracle Day, but I know what basically happens, and I don't think Jack or anyone would really be willing to help him out.**

**As for River, well, I don't know. I'm on Chapter 10 now, expecting twelve or thirteen chapters, so she still could come in, but it's unlikely. She will be along in The Crossover, though, definitely. :)**

**I'll probably update again tomorrow if I keep on writing like I have been. I'm looking to finish this story and then finally get the next chapter of Infiltration up, and then start with the next in The Crossover Collection. I'm so excited, you don't even know. XD**

**Please review, it helps me write faster and makes the chapters better. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Within minutes of Steve's departure, the Doctor flung himself out of bed and sidled as much as he could under the bedframe, reaching up to pull a certain something from its position between the mattress and frame. When he'd retrieved it, he wriggled back out into the open, sparing a second to look at the small camera embedded in the corner and wink, sporting a grin despite the exhaustion weighing him down. He was confident they wouldn't catch him if he moved quickly enough. And even in handcuffs, he was sure he could be fast.

He took the fingerprint he'd so carefully pried off of his food tray yesterday, stamped on a peice of paper he'd found in his pocket by a dusting kit he'd been absolutely thrilled to have discovered along with it, and pressed it to the glass wall.

It hesitated, as if unsure if the print was actually real or not, then appeared to decide it didn't matter, and hissed open. Advanced technology - ha.

The Doctor beamed, and fled into the main room, practically skipping with excitement. But this wasn't the time to hang around cheering - he had work to do.

He held onto the fingerprint, taking care not to smudge it. The next door he came to was normal, and didn't appear to require prints like his cell did. Hearts racing, the Doctor slipped through it and ran along the hallway it led into, searching for some sort of computer he could use. It had crossed his mind to simply go to the TARDIS and get a better computer (or leave, but he had dismissed that almost immediately) from there, but he'd decided it was too much to risk for the moment, and chosen instead to figure out where the most advanced computer available was located, and use that.

Quickly enough, he came to a door with a large window, through which he could spot a small collection of very fancy-looking computers. A little thrill went through him, and he stole as quickly as possible into the room, not bothering to properly close the door behind him. He knew Fury and the others would find him soon enough, and a door wouldn't delay them much at all.

He booted up the computer, rapping anxiously on the desk it rested on, and then selected Tony Stark's profile, seeing as it was the only option available. Obviously, this was a private computer. The machine requested a password then, and the Doctor cursed under his breath in Gallifreyan. He had of course known that Tony would have a passcode, but he'd foolishly hoped he'd be wrong this one time.

He had to hack it.

Tony had a main computer named J.A.R.V.I.S., or something along those lines, which would alert the building of the Doctor's intrusion the minute he attempted to hack it, if everyone in Stark Tower didn't already know he was here. But he'd spent some time thinking, and had figured out a way that had some chance of working, even though its flimsiness was a litttle concerning.

But he had to try. He needed to find out what was hiding in New York.

He began the hack, eyes narrowed and fingers flying, hearts pounding in his chest so hard that he thought he might actually be vibrating from the beats.

"Alert," a pleasant-sounding, not even faintly alarmed, male's voice said. "Someone is attempting to hack your computer, Mr. Stark."

"Shut up, I'm working," the Doctor ordered, although he had no hopes of the computer obeying him. He continued to work, laboring through the last of J.A.R.V.I.S.' blocks with a very final, "Ha!" and grinning as he opened a very nice, city-wide surveillence system to look for clues.

There were very obvious power fluxes in one area, where he could feel in his mind the disturbance's location. A ship, probably, or possibly a machine the invaders could use to overpower the humans. The Doctor investigated the area around the disturbance, checked pictures taken from security cameras and recent calls into the police station. He played the recordings aloud, and wondered from time to time where the Avengers - he'd figured out who they were, finally, and with an admittedly girly squeal of excitement; however, he'd hidden it as best he could from the heroes - were to bust him.

_"My sister's missing," _a shaking woman's voice said, _"she went out shopping the other day and didn't come back."_

Most of the other recordings were similar, and each sent a chill of blended sympathy and anxiety through the Time Lord. He'd only listened to five, and clicked open a picture taken near the area when the door banged fully open, and he was pounced on by a very strong human in a suit. His head thudded against the floor, and for a moment the room was spinning - and not in the good, normal-Earth-orbit way he was used to.

When he'd recovered, there was the cool metal of a gun barrel pressed into his temple, and he'd been shoved into a sitting position.

"Clever," Fury said, standing before him and looking very cocky. "But not clever enough, Doctor."

"The cliche line really hits it home," the Doctor smirked, but the expression was hollow. He was focused on somehow getting in a position to see the computer screen again, even if only for a second. He needed to see the picture.

The gun nudged his head warningly, and the Doctor angled his face slightly to meet the eyes of a middle-aged, very official-looking man with dark hair.

"You're probably an agent, aren't you?" the Time Lord said. "I think I've just about had enough of agents for the rest of my life." Which, he reflected with a pang of horror, was going to end soon.

No, no, don't think about that.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tony's voice demanded, coming from the hallway. But it sounded almost muffled. And then there was a _shick_ sound, and his voice was clear again, and nearing the room. "This is my lab!" He was, to the Doctor's glee, clad in his Iron Man suit, with the front of the mask pulled back to show his face.

"Wow, it's much more impressive in real life," the Doctor complimented, grinning again. "I've always wanted to try the suit on, but you know. Never had time to pop in for a visit."

Tony gave him an odd look. "It didn't sound like you knew who we were before," he said.

The Doctor just shrugged.

"Let's go back to Mr. Stark's first question," Fury said irritably. "What are you doing here?"

"I was trying to find out what your aliens in New York are," the Doctor told him, telling himself that he needed to wait for the right time to take a good look at the computer screen. "I was nearly there when you interrupted me."

"What a shame," the voice of Natasha Romanoff said from behind him, and then he jolted up to his feet, caught a glimpse of the computer screen and let out a whisper of, "oh," and was whapped on the back of the head with what felt like another ice-cold gun.

Everything went black.

He came to an hour and eleven minutes later, his face half buried into his pillow and another tall glass of water on the bedside table, the condensation on the sides of the glass glistening.

Now that the adrenaline from earlier was gone, the Doctor felt beyond exhausted, weighed down equally by hunger, lack of sleep, and the ever-present thoughts of his looming death. He groaned faintly and allowed his eyes to slip shut again.

"That was very smart, I'll admit," a familiar voice said. "Even though our defenses weren't at top notch. But to be fair, we're a little low on equipment after the big battle we had a little while back. I'm guessing you've heard about that."

The Doctor forced his eyes open again, and tilted his head a little to see none other than Tony Stark at his bedside, lounging easily on a chair toward the end of the bed.

"Cybermen," the Doctor got out, not even bothering to sit up. He didn't think he had the energy. He couldn't even keep his eyes open anymore. They fluttered shut.

"Cyber-what?" Tony asked, sounding amused. "That was some stunt you pulled. I don't like people hacking my computer but hey, it was impressive. And you didn't damage anything permanantly, that's true skill. Did you teach yourself?"

"Cybermen," the Time Lord repeated. "Metal men."

Tony snickered. "I'm the only metal man around here," he said. "I think Nat hit you a little too hard with that gun." His voice came closer then, in a faint whisper. "Don't tell her I called her Nat. She hates it, and she'll kill me."

"I won't," the Doctor promised, his voice sounding distant even to him. He was just so tired.

With a soft sigh, he escaped into the land of dreams.

Tomorrow, he could worry about the Cybermen.

Tony, upon entering the viewing room, as they were calling it, shrugged and snatched up half of a turkey sandwich lying on the nearest desk. "He passed out again," he said through his mouthful of food. The billionaire glanced up at the TV positioned in the corner that showed the view inside the Doctor's cell. The alien was still lying on the bed, unmoving.

"He looks dead," Clint observed. Indeed, the Doctor was white as a sheet, thin, and so still he looked like a corpse. "Steve was right, he's not eating."

Captain America was lounging in one of Tony's chairs, his eyes steely. Tony had gathered why - Steve had found out that the Doctor was a time traveller. The others had been trying to hide it from him, and even though Tony had never liked subtlety, he'd mostly gone along with it. Trying to save the man pain for a little while. Despite the fact that he usually opposed being sneaky, Tony had wanted to protect the Cap from the crushing disappointment he was obviously feeling for just a while. They did all need to focus, after all.

"He mentioned something called Cybermen," Fury said. "Do you really think he was imagining things?"

"There's no way of knowing," Natasha said. "We'll need to ask him when he wakes up."

"Who knows when that'll be," Tony put in, "the guy's exhausted."

"We need to figure out why he's not sleeping," Steve announced. "It might have something to do with the threat, or something with the Time Lords. They still haven't showed up."

"He was clearly awake plotting," Thor rumbled. "The legends say the Doctor is very clever."

Tony scoffed, "It wasn't that much of a heist. No, it's something else."

"It could be a personal reason," Steve suggested, looking more thoughtful than angry now. "When I talked to him earlier, he seemed a little..."

"Insane?" Clint said. "I mean, he's not exactly Loki, but there's definitely still some crazy there."

"Depressed, I think," Bruce said, speaking up for the first time since Tony had come back. He had been looking at the screen, studying it for some reason or other, but now he'd torn his eyes away from it and was looking Steve straight in the eye. "That's the impression I got both times I spoke to him."

Thor crossed his arms. "He is likely to be upset that he will be imprisoned on Gallifrey. As soon as we get in touch with his people, he will never taste freedom again."

"We'll ask him about everything," Natasha repeated, obviously very irritated, "when he gets up. For now, we should all get some rest ourselves."

"Agent Romanoff is right," Fury interceded, spotting Tony's argumentative look before the billionaire could say anything.

"We can't deal with the Doctor tired," the Cap added. "Tomorrow, we'll hold an interrogation."

"You're not the boss of me, this is my tower," Iron Man argued, but was clapped on the shoulder by Steve, turned around, and practically pushed out the door in front of the soldier.

Fury smiled smugly, and ate the last of the sandwiches in Tony's face.

* * *

**Hey look, I decided to use Cybermen!**

**I know they were used in Closing Time, and I honestly went through a list of Who villains I could use instead, but Cybermen seemed to work the best for this. There is a subtle nod to Closing Time later on, indicating that these Cybermen came after than incident, so I didn't entirely ignore the fact that they'll be used in the Doctor's next adventure, too.**

**In a review, someone pointed out that piece was spelled wrong in the last chapter. And you're right, of course, sorry. I use WordPad, so I don't get told off when I spell something wrong, unfortunately. It doesn't happen very often, but words like piece mess me up sometimes. XD**

**Anyway, please tell me what you think. This chapter isn't my favorite, but I'd like to know what you all thought of it. Please review, I really appreciate your input. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry this is a little late, my mom's getting married tomorrow so we've been pretty busy. More in the end AN.**

* * *

The Doctor woke up the next day, tangled in his blankets in a way that both heavily suggested nightmares, and was nearly impossible to escape from.

_At least_, he thought, _I don't really remember the dreams._

To his relief, he had only the vague memory of being held tightly at the elbows by Romans, while a gigantic astronaut loomed over him, casting even the Pandorica in front of him into shadow. That wasn't the worst of the dreams, surely. And he was beyond grateful he couldnt recall them.

"Hiya, Doc," Tony Stark said, once again sitting at his bedside, except this time in a wheely office chair. He seemed to be enjoying it quite a lot as he took a sip of the wine he held in one hand.

"Don't call me Doc," the Doctor sniffed, and struggled to untangle the blanket from around him while still handcuffed.

"I thought sleep was supposed to improve your mood, not make it worse," Tony remarked, clearly amused despite it all.

Finally, the Doctor managed to free one leg, and then the other, and he tossed the blanket as far away from the bed as he could get it. "Maybe when you're not sleeping in a cell," he shot back, but his hearts weren't entirely in the argument.

"Touche. Anyway, we're going to interrogate you," Tony said breezily.

"Really?" the Doctor said. "I absolutely love interrogations. It's very entertaining. There won't be brands, will there? To be honest, I do great with anything other than brands. Brands make me scream like a girl."

In the space of two seconds, Tony's face became intensly curious. "We're not going to torture you."

"Oh, alright then. I was almost looking forward to not-brands, though, you shouldn't tease me like that, Tony." The Doctor grinned at the billionaire, but even he could tell that it was hollow and a little pained. There hadn't been a whole lot behind his smiling mask for a while now - not since the Ponds had left - but now even his grin was failing him.

Stark raised his eyebrows and stood, not even waiting for the Doctor to follow him as he left the cell. The Time Lord scrambled to his feet and hurried over to the younger man, making sure to stay behind him. He had an opportunity to run off now, he knew, but Tony must have known he wouldn't take it, because he obviously wasn't concerned.

_Does he actually trust me?_

Apparently Tony was the only one who did, because as soon as the two men reached a heavy metal door, several men in suits swarmed them, surrounding the Doctor and making sure he didn't escape as they pushed him inside.

Waiting in the room were, of course, the rest of the Avengers and Nick Fury. The Doctor was made to sit in a chair facing the heroes and the director, and there was a glass of water placed on the table in front of him. In all, it was a very cliche setup.

"So who's going to be the bad cop?" the Doctor asked the room. "I've gathered that the good one's Tony, seeing as he was lenient with me. So-"

"Shut up," Natasha Romanoff ordered, and leaned on the table.

"Oh, it's you then. I-"

"There is no good cop and there is no bad cop," Fury interrupted irritably. "We just have a few questions to ask you, and then you can go back to your cell."

The Doctor looked around. "Can I just stay here, actually? It looks comfortable enough for me. I'm sure I could manage."

Ignoring him, Natasha commanded, "Tell us about the Cybermen."

The Time Lord blinked, and then remembered his discovery with a bone-deep chill. "Oh. Right. Basically, they're metal men with human brains." He attempted to describe it with his hands, was prohibited by the cuffs, and sighed angrily and let his arms drop. "They have no emotions, and like to convert humans."

"So, pretty much a Star Trek villain, right?" Tony smirked.

"No," the Doctor said, although maybe they were, a bit, "not really. But if you want to think of it that way, sure. Anyway, they're very complex and quite dangerous, and who knows how many of them there are, and what they want. They could want more than just to convert humans, though I doubt it. I'm sure that's a good part of their mission here. No idea if there's another possibility."

"Why haven't they made a move yet?" Dr. Banner wondered.

"That's what I'm worried about," the Doctor agreed.

Fury moved in front, the swagger out of his step now that the threat had been verified. "What kind of strategies do they have?" he inquired.

The Time Lord across the table pondered this. "I've never really thought about strategies," he mused. "Of course _I_ use strategies, but...mostly they'll try to convert you, anyway. So just don't let yourselves get caught, and don't split up too much. They're not very sneaky, so them sneaking up on you shouldn't be too much of a problem." Then, something seemed to occur to him and he hastily said, "But you shouldn't go by yourselves. I mean, I should come along." He attempted a smile.

"We're not uncuffing you," Clint said flatly.

The Doctor shrugged. "Well, yeah, I sort of figured that. But you don't need to. I'll just come along to give you advice and keep you out of trouble."

"You only cause trouble, Time Lord," Thor rumbled.

"I have been accused of that, yes."

"How do we know you're not gonna lead us right to them and have us converted?" Clint demanded. "You could be working with them."

The Doctor gave him a glare. "The Cybermen don't often make alliances," he informed the Avengers, "and they certainly never would with me. They can't make me into one of them - I don't work well with the machinary. So they'd just kill me. Not to mention that I'd never cooperate with them, _ever._" His voice was cold and dark at the end, giving the others in the room chills, though none of them would ever admit it.

Fury gazed down at him from across the wood surface of the table, leaning on it with his eye intent and searching. The Doctor didn't improve his posture or otherwise attempt to make himself look bigger - that was a very human-y intimidation thing that he had never been at all impressed by. He simply sat and sent all the determination into his expression, his lips thinning into a line and his large chin wiggling a little, his eyes glinting.

Fury finally pulled back. "Fine," he said, "you can come. But you'll be guarded at all times, no exceptions."

The Doctor mock-saluted, grinning madly. "Yessir! Are we going now?"

"No," Steve said. He'd been hanging in the back of the group throughout the course of the interrogation, but was now stepping forward to meet the Doctor's eyes. "I have one more question for you, and it's real simple."

"Okay," the Doctor said, "shoot. Except, not really shoot. I don't like guns."

Steve ignored his ramblings and asked, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

The Doctor froze. There were many reasons, really. First of all, his death. It was coming up shortly. He'd decided in his cell - he'd make a stop in London one more time, poke around one of his very favorite Earth cities; then, he'd go see Craig and Sophie, try out a social call, see how they were doing; and then the Alignment of Exedor (seven galaxies in perfect unison, he was beyond excited); and last, but definitely not least, he'd go off to Kastaborous one last time, and take a look at the spot where Gallifrey used to be and remember, just for a moment, how beautiful it had been. Nightmares was another cause. He always had nightmares, but these recent ones had been particularly bad. Plenty of other reasons, too, but he really didn't want to think about that.

"I have been locked up, in case you haven't noticed," the Doctor said.

"That's not it," Steve answered, unwavering. "What else is it?"

"Nothing, it's really nothing at all. Mind your own business, eh? Humans are so nosy." How was he supposed to explain? They didn't like him, none of them did. No one would care, not that that mattered much. But they wouldn't really understand, either.

"You're hiding something-"

Fury waved Steve away. "Let's just get on with this, Rogers" he said. "We can continue this when we get back. Everyone, suit up. And someone needs to give our guest a bullet-proof vest and one of those electric bracelets you've been working on, Stark."

"I don't need a vest. And electric bracelets?" the Doctor asked. "That sounds exciting."

"They won't let you go more than ten feet from the person wearing the other one," Tony explained, grinning proudly. "Or you'll get a shock."

"Ooh, how modern." The Time Lord grinned back. He pulled on his cuffs again. "So, does this mean I'll get these things off?"

"In a minute," Fury said, and all but him left the room, presumably to ready themselves. As soon as they were gone, he addressed the Doctor again. "We will find out what you're hiding. These Cybermen things are our first priority, but you'll be forced to explain yourself later on."

There was a steadiness in the man's eyes that the Doctor had to admire. He didn't respond, but he understood that he wouldn't be able to keep Gallifrey's lack of existance a secret any longer, and maybe he wouldn't even be able to hide his looming death. There was a five minute spanse of time where neither of the two men in the interrogation room spoke, until the others returned, all but Tony suited up and ready to go. But juding by the metallic briefcase, his suit was ready to put on at any time.

Barton stepped forward with a single key, and the Doctor could feel himself fidgeting impatiently as the archer unlocked his handcuffs and removed them. He had a second to relish in the feeling of free wrists, spreading his arms like he'd been dying to do since he'd been cuffed, before Natasha handed a single silver band to Tony, who clamped it onto the Doctor's wrist with ease. There was a soft click, and when Tony tugged experimentally on the band, it dug into the Doctor's skin in a very painful fashion. The Doctor fought back a hiss of pain.

"And that's what happens when you try to take it off," the billionaire said cheerfully. "So don't bother, pal." He smacked the Doctor playfully on the shoulder and sauntered off. The Doctor followed him quickly enough, seeing a similar band on Tony's wrist and having no desire to be shocked. He wondered, however, how much it would hurt.

To his astonishment, when he stepped out of the room, Tony was standing just a few feet outside it with an agent beside him, carrying none other than the sonic screwdriver.

"Here," Tony offered, thrusting the tool outward with his signature smirk. "It won't work on the bracelet, so don't try. We've been experimenting. What's that thing called, anyway?" His genuine curiosity, not a desire to check for threats or anything, but just wanting to know, had the Doctor smiling.

"Sonic screwdriver," he replied, flipping it gleefully up into the air and catching it again. He tucked it into his jacket pocket, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. It must have shown on his face, because when the others walked out of the room, they were staring at him a little.

"Okay," Natasha said, "let's go everyone."

Steve's hand closed around the Doctor's elbow as they started to what the Time Lord guessed was some sort of vehicle, despite the precautions already in place to prevent his escape. Clearly, the old soldier was uneasy with leaving a prisoner unattended, even if there was protection in place.

"You don't have to do that," the Doctor said, trying to pull away. But Steve held fast, unyeilding as he met the Doctor's eyes with a certain steel in his gaze. Thor had stopped walking now, apparently waiting for them. There was ice in the Asgardian's eyes, a look that promised vengence and pain.

"If you betray us, Time Lord, I will make sure you suffer," the god of thunder growled, so close to the Doctor that their noses were nearly touching. They had stopped now, just standing there. "There will be no place you can hide, if you hurt my friends."

"I'm not planning to." He thought about saying something else, but was interrupted when Steve released him and nudged him slightly to get him to move on. They continued down the hall, and then into a large elevator that led into a huge room filled with sleek, obviously very expensive vehicles.

"You're with me, Doc," Tony said once they had all emerged, beckoning as he turned and made his way over to a gorgeous black car. The Doctor didn't get a glimpse of the model, unfortunately. The interior of the car was a beautiful sort of cream-colored leather, however, and felt nice underneath him.

"Nice car," he said appreciatively. "Really beautiful." He rubbed a hand over the dashboard, grinning. Tony was looking very pleased with himself as they pulled out, followed by the other Avengers. There was some sort of garage that led out into the city, and quickly they all pulled onto the road.

On their way to the Cybermen.

* * *

**I also apologize for the fact that the Doctor hasn't revealed anything about the Time Lords yet, but it didn't feel right to me to do in this chapter. Soon though, I promise. Most likely next chapter, considering I'm editing the last four chapters. Hopefully you'll get an update on Saturday or Sunday, but I can't promise anything. At latest, Monday. I promise.**

**In addition, Infiltration (for those of you that care) is still being worked on. I could only post this chapter because it was pretty much done, I just needed to tweak a few things. Since Chapter 9 of Infiltration is not yet finished (grrrr), that'll be slower in coming. Sorry for anyone reading that...**

**Anyway, please tell me what you all thought of this chapter in a review. Reviews make me happy and help me update faster, remember all. And thanks for everyone who's favorited and followed and reviewed so far, I really appreciate everything. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor had directed them to a small building somewhere by the Bronx that had once been a library but had been closed down and was currently not being used by anyone. Well, no human, at any rate.

Dr. Banner climbed out of the car he was sharing with Steve, scrutinizing the building before them. It was dirty even on the outside, and made of cracking brick. The roof seemed to be in okay shape, but it had certainly seen better days.

"Who in their right mind would set up here?" Tony asked from his right. The billionaire had come out of his car carrying his portable suit in one hand, with the Doctor coming up to stand beside him. Both were stuyding the building.

"Inconspicious," Barton suggested. He and Natasha, accompanied by Thor who had ridden in the backseat, were also stepping forward to look. "No one would know they were here."

"Or care," Steve remarked, spinning his shield absently in one hand. "Well. Let's go in. Prepare for a battle."

Bruce roused his other side slightly just in case he would require it as he followed the Captain to the front door, which had clearly been in use recently.

"We are just going to storm right in?" Thor rumbled. "That seems unwise."

"It won't matter," the Doctor assured him, "they probably already know we're here. The best thing would just be to avoid getting converted." Slowly, Steve cracked the door open, and then abruptly burst inside with the others directly behind him.

If anyone had expected to see a whole operation going on inside, they were sorely disappointed. The inside of the building was dusty and smelled like a vacant house. The floors and walls were all bare except for an old AC unit on the far wall, turned off. Bruce expected that if it was on, it would be wheezing with old age and lack of use.

"They're here," the Doctor muttered, bending down to examine the floor. He looked almost like he would lick it, but settled for a deep sniff and then standing up again. "This is where I saw them. Oh, what's that?" The intensity in his voice that had been there in his first words spoken had disappeared, and he was suddenly light and carefree with a slightly crazy grin on his face. He headed over to a dark hallway, even more dusty than the main room, and unsettlingly quiet. Even more so than the main room, if that was possible.

"I feel like something's gonna pop out and kill us," Tony said, but he didn't look entirely concerned. Just sort of amused as he glanced around the room and down the hall.

"It probably wouldn't be very reassuring to say that something might," the Doctor replied absently, still peering down the hall, now looking faintly bothered.

Thor, who hadn't spoken much, now piped up. "These metal men are cowards," he thundered. "They are too frightened to face us."

"I don't think that's the case," the Doctor said, not seeming to notice that he was very slowly wandering into the hall. There was something off - he was too distracted by something or other. Bruce wondered if it was a sense that Time Lords alone had, drawing him in.

"Doctor," Natasha suddenly said, her voice firm. The alien started, then looked down, eyes wide, noticing for the first time his progress down the hallway.

"There's something wrong with this," he said after a moment, staring pointedly at his feet as if willing them to stay put. "There's a..." He looked up again, staring down the hall and began inching forward again. There was something captivated - and hopeful? - in his gaze.

Bruce had a sudden lurching, sick feeling and he rushed forward and grabbed the Doctor's arms at the same time Thor did, and together they pulled him back, just as a door no one had noticed flew open and a robotic figure stomped out. The doorway was blown apart by more of them as they thundered out, flooding the hall and facing the group in the main room, all of whom were loading weapons or readying themselves for a fight. Tony's suit was quickly building itself around him, while Natasha had her pistol pointed at the enemy. Clint's bow was ready to fire, and Steve and Thor were also prepping themselves for a fight. The Doctor had his tool in hand. Bruce allowed the Hulk to absorb him just the tiniest bit, ready to overtake him if fighting broke out.

"Intruders," the head robot said in a monotone. "You will be converted."

"No," the Doctor snapped, shrugging out of Bruce and Thor's hands, which were still on his arms. "What are you doing here?" When they did not reply immediately, he said, "You don't want to make me angry, boys. I can promise you that you will not like it."

Despite himself, Bruce felt a tiny chill.

"We are here to convert the humans," the robot proclaimed. "And we will succeed. Our master has made us better since you last faced us, Doctor."

"So you recognize me then?" the Doctor chortled, now far too casual and flippant. He spread his arms invitingly. "Well, hello then. And when did I last face you?"

The robot seemed to almost study the Time Lord for a moment before saying, "You do not require this information."

The Doctor looked like he wanted to argue, but instead just shrugged. "Fine, then. So - your master. Who's that, then? Poor fellow, hope he's not too tired of those voices of yours." He twirled the tool - it unlocked things, Bruce had discovered while testing it, so he wasn't sure why the Doctor thought it would make a difference here - and smirked.

"He is mighty," the robot said. "He will conquer Earth."

"I doubt that, to be perfectly honest." The Doctor's smirk grew hostile and predatory, and another shiver went through Bruce. "So, can I meet him? He sounds like an interesting guy, I'd love to have a chat."

"Mmm, so would I, Doctor," a voice said from an undefineable point behind the robots. They parted, marching in perfect unison, making a pathway for a tall man in a gray suit to stalk down to face the Avengers and their alien prisoner.

The man was in his thirties, probably, with flashing white teeth and graying sandy-blond hair. His eyes were dark brown, looking almost black on occasion as he approached the group in the main room. His voice was low and velvety in a disturbing way.

Thor began swinging his hammer, ready to toss it at the man, but the Doctor said, cold as ice, "No. Let me speak to him."

The Asgardian looked extremely displeased, but lowered the hammer.

"I have been anticipating your arrival," the man said, bowing slightly in a mockery of respect even as he smirked at the Doctor's earlier words. "I've been told tales of you, Doctor. The Oncoming Storm."

"Oh, stop, I'm blushing," the Doctor smirked, apparently unamused. "Now, tell me, what are you doing here?"

"Making a better human race. That's all, Doctor. Simply making humans better."

The Time Lord raised his barely visible eyebrows. "Right, which is why you're making them into emotionless machines." Here, he became more passionate. "Humans are creatures of emotion. Living without it, you wouldn't be you anymore. There's no creativity or determination."

"The humans are brave," Thor put in, puffing his chest out almost in pride. "They can be very noble creatures. Why do you desire to erase their feelings?"

"Emotion is weakness," the man snarled, and his voice was ice cold. Bruce felt his fists clench. "Emotion is foolish and useless. It blinds us. I will have mine removed when Earth has been taken over. Too much pain makes it hard to work, doesn't it, Doctor?" He bared his teeth furiously, glaring at the Time Lord with malice. "We can get nothing done. We cannot advance as a species."

Steve stepped forward. "The Doctor's right," he said, eyes narrowed. "Feelings make us better, not worse."

The man cast his eyes over all of them, residing on each of the heroes in a deeply personal way that shook all of them to the core, though none of them would admit it. He wasn't the most intimidating figure they'd faced, certainly, but at the same... "You will all be converted," he promised, and it almost sounded like he thought he was giving them a gift. "Except for you, Doctor. You will suffer your failures for the rest of your miserable life. You will crave the escape of conversion, but you will never get it."

"That's big talk," the Doctor observed, colder than Bruce had ever heard him, but still appearing as casual as ever. "What's your name, Mr. Big-Shot-Master-Man?"

"West will do," the man sneered.

"Well then, West, I suggest you turn back now. My friends and I will stop this before it gets much farther. How many do you have? Twenty? We can easily manage that."

"Can you?" West inquired, too amused to be up to any good. "What about when your friends turn against you? And you can't fight past your precious emotions long enough to fight? What then, Lonely God? You fall."

This was about the time that Tony would say something like, "very melodramatic," but he did not speak up. That in and of itself was concerning. Death, Bruce supposed, was one thing. Being changed into an emotionless machine was another. Sobering. Consuming.

However, the comment eventually came, although it was a bit less biting than normal. "How very dramatic," Tony snarked. "You should join an acting career."

"Tony Stark," West chuckled. "So high and mighty. But what about all the bad things that bring you down, Mr. Stark? That make you stop and have to breathe because you can't think when they're present in your mind? We could stop that. You could work all you wanted, never be distracted by petty emotions."

"Thanks, but no."

West sneered again. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice. My friends and I will help you, Tony. It will be a far better existance with us than here."

"No," the Doctor said, and his voice was low and steely and absolutely chilling. His posture was solid and angry, his eyes alight with defiance. "You will not convert them, you won't even _touch them_ while I am here."

This, Bruce thought as he stared at the alien who had so far been mostly flippant and ridiculous, if a bit sad, was the Doctor in his element. He could feel it as he watched the Time Lord stare down West. Like Steve in the battlefield, this was where the Doctor shined.

"Maybe you won't be here," West smirked. "Maybe I'll kill you."

The Doctor actually laughed. Not hysterically or in astonishment, but as though the idea was ridiculous. And then he started laughing again, once he'd recovered, but this time it was cold and almost bitter. "You don't know the implications of that," the alien scoffed after he'd finished. "Besides, I don't die here."

West raised his eyebrows. "Time can be rewritten."

The Doctor got considerably colder at that, and glared at the man across from him again.

The Cybermen's leader sneered and took a daring step closer to the furious Time Lord. "And I think I do know the implications of killing you, Doctor. Genocide. It would be a shame, but you don't exactly represent traditional Time Lord values, do you? It's not fair to their memory, is it? And you know it."

"What do you mean, their memory?" Clint said, knocking an arrow as he spoke. No one had made a move at West yet, to Bruce's surprise. He would have thought, despite the Doctor's words earlier, that everyone would be going at him already.

West cocked his head, actually looking surprised. "He hasn't told you? Oh Doctor, you naughty boy." He shook a mocking finger at the Time Lord, who was looking pale as a sheet but nonetheless determined and angry.

"He's been hiding something," Steve allowed, "but-"

"No, no, no buts," West cried. "Doctor, tell them your horrible secret. I'm sure your Asgardian friend over there won't like it much at all."

Thor turned a furious gaze on the Doctor. "What does he speak of?" he thundered. "I demand to know!"

"It's not important," the Doctor spat, not even meeting Thor's eyes. "It doesn't-"

"But it does matter," West interrupted. "If you're not going to tell them, then I will." He gestured to the group before him, looking sinister in a very cliche way, and delighted in the secret he was about to reveal.

"The Time Lords are dead!" West exclaimed gleefully.

* * *

**Villains are not my forte...ugh.**

**Also, you guys gave me a nice idea in the reviews that would work awesomely for the rest of this series, so thank you! :D**

**Anyway, please tell me what you think of West. I know I suck at writing villians, sorry. Not a lot of practice, I guess. I'm working on it. I'm still writing, also, hopefully an update will come tomorrow or Tuesday, whenever I get up to editing Chapter 8. Since I'm rewriting chapters, the length of this story is still questionable. But probably only eleven chapters in total. Then on to the next in The Crossover Collection. XD**

**Ahem. Please review and tell me all your thoughts. And if you have any suggestions or constructive criticism for me, I would greatly appreciate it. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

All eyes turned to the Doctor, who's chin was wiggling as he stared at the floor, fists tightly clenched.

"You lie," Thor said, but he sounded hesitant and little bit horrified. "The Time Lords are-"

"Dead," West interrupted, grinning at the Doctor and looking beyond pleased with himself. "I can't believe he didn't blurt it out earlier. He does like to angst, don't you, Doctor?"

Steve was the first to completely tear his eyes from the Doctor and glare at West. "I think you should stop," he said.

"Don't be ridiculous," West scoffed, waving Steve off. "You can't stop me. I'm too powerful. Besides, don't you want to know what happened?"

Clint moved next. "Maybe not," he said.

"I think you do," their opponent smirked, and then gestured toward Thor. "Especially our dear god of thunder over there. I'm sure he'll be pleased with the news."

"We're not interested," Steve began, but Thor cut him off by stepping toward the Doctor and readying his hammer yet again.

"Doctor," he growled, his voice low and rumbling, "tell me."

The Time Lord didn't reply, didn't even look up, but Steve could see the glint of tears in his eyes.

"I'll tell you," West offered with a far too cheerful smile. "The Doctor mostly claims to be peaceful and loving, but let me tell you - any creature that has the ability to destroy his own planet in cold blood - his family and friends - is meant to be hunted down and killed. That creature is far worse than even the worst murderer here on Earth. The scum of the universe. Because that's what he did - he destroyed Gallifrey, and all the Time Lords along with it." Obviously relishing in his speech, West took a deep, very satisfied breath and watched everything unfold with a purely malicious look on his face.

When Thor spoke moments later, his voice was thick with emotion, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "You killed the Time Lords," he snarled at the Doctor, who still remained unresponsive. "You killed legends. You destroyed them. West tells the truth, I can see it in your face, you monster." He didn't raise his voice much, but it was searing with anger and a combination of disbelief and hatred. Steve almost felt sorry for the Doctor, but under the circumstances, he knew it was wrong of him.

And then the Doctor - there really was no other word that could accurately describe the incident - snapped.

"You weren't there!" he screamed, and Thor actually took a step back, clearly shocked despite himself. "You don't know the sacrifices I had to make! It was war! It was a huge, bloody war! And I was a good soldier! I did the right thing!" And there were tears streaming messily down his cheeks, and he screamed through sobs, and Steve thought he'd probably not seen anyone so unhinged in his life. "It was my family and friends and _my planet _or you bloody creatures and the universe and I. CHOSE. YOU." Breathing hard and still sobbing furiously, he spat out, "And you still have the nerve to challenge me and call me worthless when _I made all the sacrifices_! I am the reason you all exist, and I-just-hate-mys-" and then he raised the strange tool and pointed it somewhere or other - Steve didn't get the chance to see where - and pressed down. There was a green blur from somewhere behind him.

And everything exploded.

* * *

The Doctor opened his eyes to find himself in the - somehow - abandoned street, unable to hear anything but far too dazed and filled with a strange relief to care. He remembered something huge and green barreling at him and snatching him up just as the building blew and shoving him out into the open before he lost conciousness.

Slowly, a ringing came to his ears, and he could hear just slightly again. But the sirens in the distance were dim and almost inaudible, and the sound of his own stomach growling was lost in silence. He shivered with something like fear when he realized what he'd almost done, back in the building. He'd almost killed everyone, including himself. The sick, twisting grip of self-loathing gripped his stomach, and he closed his eyes and relaxed on the pavement, hardly paying attention to the bite of rubble underneath his cheek.

A strong hand took his shoulder, but he didn't bother to see who it was. He no longer cared. So when Steve's voice arrived, calling his name, he didn't react. He knew he probably should, but he couldn't bring himself to reply.

"Doctor," Steve was saying, "are you alright?"

Finally, he mumbled something like a, "sure," and was hauled into a sitting position. He eventually opened his eyes to see Captain America inspecting him carefully, with Clint right beside him. Both looked grave, and were slightly singed. The Doctor wanted nothing more than to lie back down and sleep - to hell with nightmares - but stared directly at them anyway. Eventually though, his eyes began to unfocus of their own accord and he accidentally started listing sideways.

"What the hell was that about?" Tony blurted, coming into view, clad in a much more banged-up Iron Man suit. "What-"

He was interrupted by a warning shout from Natasha. She was aiming her pistol at a battered and bloody West, who still grinning despite his now more red teeth, and who was also backed up by an entirely new set of Cybermen, seeing as the others had obviously perished in the explosion.

"Good show, Doctor," the man wheezed as he dragged himself further into view on hands and knees. "But you shouldn't have done that. Maybe we'll just kill you all. Much easier than conversion." Then, to the Cybermen, "Get them."

The robots started stomping, and as much as Natasha shot at them and Clint began firing his arrows, they continued on as the Doctor had known they would.

"Sonic," the Doctor said, fumbling around in the rubble for the screwdriver before he spotted it a short distance away and snatched it up under Steve's wary gaze.

"What are you doing?" the Captain demanded, glancing back every once and a while to check on his team, who were all engaging the Cybermen now.

"Emotional inhibitors," the Doctor tried to explain. "Once upon a time, galaxy far far away, they were human. Had all the emotions removed, like West said. There's a thingy-ma-bob - you wouldn't understand it." He took Steve's hand and the other man helped him up.

The battle was in no way gruesome, considering that the enemies were robots, but the thought of wasted human brains inside the metal shells disgusted the the Doctor. Bruce Banner - the Hulk - was making quick work of most of the Cybermen, roaring and smashing them to the asphalt and sending their weapons skittering away. Tony was blasting at the enemy, sometimes flying around to the side to get them. Thor was bringing Cybermen down with his hammer. Clint and Natasha were doing their best to slow down the few troops that still got through with their bullets and arrows, but it wasn't working any better than before. At least they had the sense to dodge when the robots started shooting.

"Go help them," the Doctor told Steve as the two started forward to join the battle. "I know what I'm doing."

"You can barely stand," Steve said doubtfully, but there was a lack of trust in his eyes that the Doctor recognized from when they'd first met and said that he'd really like to walk away but couldn't. It would go against what he believed.

"I'll manage," the Time Lord replied shortly, and then he and Steve ducked out of the way of an unarmed Cyberman's hand as it came swinging at them. Steve continued on to help his teammates, but the Doctor stayed behind, scanning the Cyberman quickly to locate the emotion inhibitor chip. He would stop this Cyberman like he'd stopped the others in Pete's World in his Tenth regeneration. He carefully avoided thoughts of Rose as he continued slipping out of the Cyberman's grip. He didn't need the distraction of her, nor any of his other companions, at the moment.

Finding the inhibitor in the neck on this design of Cybermen (almost exactly like the ones in the parallel universe), he dodged another swinging arm and came up behind the robot, pressing the sonic into the neck area, which was thankfully a weaker spot in the armor. He unlatched a small, hidden flap while the Cyberman continued to try and attack him, sensing what he was doing. Naturally, it wasn't pleased. Not that it could be pleased anyway, but-

No, focus.

He was forced in the front of the Cyberman again, and crashed right into the Clint, who cursed and immediately got to his feet, sparing only seconds to glare at the Doctor before he got back to work. The Doctor, however, didn't have the same energy. He reflected that he probably should have eaten something yesterday as the Cyberman loomed over him and he struggled to stand.

He hadn't even gotten up completely when the Cyberman attacked again, and he had to scramble away on hands and knees, only struggling to his feet after he was safe. Standing up, he felt a little bit better, and was able to dig the sonic into the Cyberman's neck again and disable the chip.

The Cyberman - no longer a robot (could you really call a thing with no emotions living?) but a cyborg - let loose a cry after a few moments, sinking to its knees and making distressed sounds.

The Doctor took its shoulder and said, before it overwhelmed itself with feeling and died, "It's not your fault." Then, the Cyberman collapsed, and lay still on the road.

It was only then that police cars rolled up, their sirens far too hard on the Doctor's recovering ears. He suppressed a reflexive wince and gathered up his screwdriver. He would deal with the police, seeing as none of the Avengers were really available.

"Hello," he greeted the officers, absently twirling the sonic in one hand and grinning at the police force before him. "Everything's fine."

The officers peered around him at the battle that was still in process by the building, and eyebrows were raised all around. "It doesn't look fine," someone said.

"Okay, fine," the Doctor agreed, "but you'll just cause more trouble if you try and help. Why don't you make sure all civilians stay of the area, okay? That would be great." Then, he quickly sonicked a weapon out of an oncoming Cyberman's arms. "Go!" he ordered the police, and then dodged an arm as it came at him, going around to the back of the Cyberman and opening the hidden flap. This one went faster than before, because the cops were shooting at the Cyberman, distracting it momentarily from the Doctor's intrustion. Although the Doctor normally opposed guns, the bullets wouldn't actually hurt the Cyberman, so he guessed this was an exception. After a moment, the chip was disabled and the Cyberman collapsed, crying helplessly.

"Sorry," the Doctor said, patting the cyborg's shoulder, and he moved on to the next.

* * *

The things just kept coming, Clint thought, cursing out loud. There seemed to be no end to the flood of robots pouring into the open. And even though the Hulk was making quick work of most of them, Tony and Steve were still required for the ones that got through, and Clint and Natasha for the lucky few that survived even that.

"Maybe we need to take West out," Clint muttered to Natasha as he knocked another arrow. They didn't do anything, really, but they did slow the robots down somewhat, and that was enough for Clint.

"We should interrogate him first," Natasha replied between shots. "We need to know if he has any partners doing the same thing."

Clint grunted in agreement and fired at a Cyberman. If these were flesh and blood enemies, he would be firing arrows nonstop and taking men out, but since these were robots, he didn't really have that option. Except for his explosive arrows, but he thought that perhaps he should save those for the most desperate situation in this battle.

The Doctor suddenly crashed into him, knocking them both down. Clint cursed and glared at the alien, who apparently was facing off with a Cyberman single-handed. The Time Lord fled from a blow, and then somehow sent the robot to its knees, crying out. He said something to it, and then ran off as it fell to the ground, apparently dead.

"What is he doing?" Clint wondered aloud.

"Fighting his way, I guess," Natasha said, reloading her pistol. "It's working, at least."

Clint glanced back, finding the alien talking to policemen, trying to keep them away from the battle. The Time Lord took down another Cyberman after that and staggered away, looking exhausted but determined, and engaged another robot. To each of his defeated enemies, he patted their shoulders or heads, looking guilty before he moved on. It was strange, but since he was fighting, Clint wasn't going to complain.

Steve brought down a few Cyberman and then ran toward Clint and Natasha, guarding himself with his shield. Thor overtook his position, sending Cybermen crashing to the pavement, where the Hulk easiily crushed them "Don't you have any of those explosive arrows?" Captain America asked Clint.

"Obviously," Clint answered, knocking one. "I was waiting for the right time."

"That doesn't seem like you," Natasha teased, although she kept a straight face and continued shooting.

"Everyone, move!" Steve called behind him, and the rest of the Avengers listened, even the Hulk, although he still made sure to mow down another row of robots beforehand.

Hawkeye chose his target, a Cyberman in the center of the oncoming troops, and fired. The arrow shot fast, actually making the Cyberman it hit stagger a little with the force. Clint pressed a button, and the robot and most of the troops around it exploded, sending fire up into the air, and then down onto the Avengers. They all took cover until it was over.

"Fantastic!" Thor roared, spinning his hammer enough to lift him into the air, where he went above a surviving Cyberman and came down on top of it with a shout. The Hulk took down the rest with a huge grin.

Unfortunately, another stampede of Cybermen swamped them within seconds, and they were back to fighting.

Everyone continued their jobs; the Avengers busied themselves with most of the troops, while the Doctor disabled the strays. Clint loosed another explosive arrow, destroying more of the Cybermen, but yet again more and more robots arrived.

"Where are they all coming from?" Clint snarled as he readied another explosive. "No way that building could possibly hold this many."

"There must be a portal," Natasha reasoned, "to another base, or a ship nearby."

Another group of Cybermen was blown to pieces, only to be replaced with more. Clint's bow felt exceedingly heavy in his hands.

Meanwhile, in the thick of things, Steve was having trouble.

As many Cybermen as he knocked down for the Hulk or Thor to smash, or Tony to zap, it never seemed to be enough. He was made for battle, bred for this exact type of thing, but things were becoming more hopeless with each new Cyberman that came into his sights. The others seemed to be faring about the same as him, each looking more worried and tired as the battle wore on. The only person Steve couldn't see was the Doctor, which was concerning seeing as the Time Lord had barely been able to sit upright, let alone stand properly.

Captain America pounded a Cyberman into the asphalt and took its gun, shooting down a row of robots before the ammo ran out and he had to snatch up another weapon. So far, not much shooting by the Cybermen had been done (usually the Hulk crushed them before they could get that far), and the little bit that had was useless, and no one had been hit. For that, Steve was grateful. However, he wasn't sure how much longer that would go on. Maybe the Cybermen would decide to start shooting immediately. Then there would be trouble.

Clint let loose another exploding arrow, and Steve dove out of range, watching as a group of about ten Cybermen was blown to kingdom come.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he whirled, ready to take down whatever was behind him.

It was the Doctor, pale but looking determined. "Steve," he said, "I need to talk to West."

"Weren't you getting the leftovers?" Captain America demanded, knocking away a Cyberman moving in toward the Doctor with his shield.

"They'll just keep coming," the Time Lord explained. He was also a little hesitant, as if Steve would snap at him for his ridiculous idea of blowing up the building, but he must have known that the Captain wouldn't, not while they were in battle, because that hadn't stopped him. "I might be able to get him to call them off."

Steve felt a flutter of hope even as he was forced to take down another few Cybermen. "You need me to get you there," he guessed. West was constantly blocked by his troops, too far away for the Doctor, who was unarmed and needed a bit of time to actually get rid of an opponent, to get to without possibly dying.

"Absolutely," the Doctor agreed. "Can you?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "Get behind me." He shoved the alien into position and ran through the flood of robots, bashing their heads with his shield to stun them. Things were going pretty well until the Doctor started dragging behind a little.

When Steve turned back, fearing the worst, he was greeted with a dazed, sleepy-looking Time Lord, who was now simply staggering along, where as before he had pretty much been okay. "What happened?" Captain America questioned, not stopping. They didn't have time to rest.

"Hit me at a weak spot," the Doctor explained with a slur. "Didn't get it exactly, or I might be dead, and didn't get it even really close, or I'd be out, but enough to-" he didn't finish, probably instead choosing to concentrate on more important things, like staying awake, but it didn't need finishing. It had been enough to weaken him, and that wasn't good at all.

"Try and keep up," Steve urged. "We're nearly there." That wasn't entirely true, but the Doctor was too out of it at this point to argue with him, and they were still making progress.

Finally, they escaped into more open air, and found West leaning heavily against a remaining part of the wall, still bloodied and smiling.

"Oh, look," he growled, "if it isn't Captain America and the last of the Time Lords."

"Call off the Cybermen," the Doctor said, moving past Steve and, surprisingly, standing on his own.

"You won't kill me," West scoffed.

The Doctor shook his head. "No. I could do much worse than kill you."

West sneered. "I don't doubt that, Doctor. But the risk is worth the reward."

"And what's the reward?" Steve jumped in.

The man against the wall straightened a little. "A friend of mine promised me something."

Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. "You have a partner," he said. He wondered how much worse this would get. More Cybermen, ten times as much as were behind him. Overtaking the Earth. Wiping all the emotions out of the human race. Then what? Conquering the rest of the universe? Destroying the rest of the universe?

"More like a master," West corrected, all the while staring intently at the Doctor with a malicious smile. The Time Lord's eyes narrowed, and he looked extremely disturbed, but strangely...hopeful, as well.

"You're not...he-" the Doctor stammered.

"He trained me," West told the alien. "Showed me what the human race could achieve if we could think past our emotions. Our fears, our failures." He looked wistful. "He promised me a future without pain."

The Doctor was frozen in place, but he was still apparently able to speak. "He promised a lot of things. Is...is he...?"

"I don't know if he's alive or dead," West said, and Steve noticed that his voice was fading slowly away. And then he noticed the small pouch lying on the ground beside the man, that clearly said, when Steve picked it up to take a closer look, that it held a poisonous pill. The pouch looked like it had been torn from a hidden pocket of some kind, and judging by the slight ripping of West's suit jacket, it had come from there. Not to mention, that the pouch was empty.

"What did you do?" Steve asked, tossing the item away. West laughed, but it was distant and his eyes were glassy.

The Doctor seemed to catch on and unfroze, shaking himself a little as if pushing a hand off his shoulder. "You can't die," he said. "You owe me answers."

"I don't owe you anything," West replied, spitting at the Doctor's feet with a sneer. "You won't be able to defeat him."

"At least tell me where he is."

"No."

"What about where all these Cybermen coming from?"

West didn't seem to be all there anymore. He appeared to consider not answering, but clearly decided it didn't matter any longer. "A portal," he rasped, chuckling a little for some reason. "There's a ship...with thousands of Cybermen on board. No hope for you."

"Go tell Agents Barton and Romanoff," the Doctor ordered Steve, motioning for him to leave. "They can do that."

"I'm not going," Captain America protested. "You can't stay here by yourself with him."

The Doctor met his eyes, and there was a desperate hope there. "Let me do this," he pleaded. "I can handle myself."

Slowly, Steve stepped back, not taking his eyes off of the Time Lord, who continued to look back at him for a moment before leaning down by West and speaking softly to him. Then, Steve let himself be taken back into the swarm of Cybermen, and fought past them to Hawkeye and the Black Widow.

Let this be the end of the battle, he prayed.

* * *

**There, a nice long chapter to make up for my absence. Sorry about that, things were a little bit hectic and I couldn't finish this chapter until today. I wanted to make it a longer one, which worked out nicely.**

**Thank you all for the reviews, they really brighten my day. And having a story with so many favs and follows and reviews is really fantastic. Not to mention those of you that added me to your favorite/followed author's list, that really means a lot to me. Thank you all so much.**

**Please remember to review this chapter and tell me what you think! I love to hear it all!**


	9. Chapter 9

**An early update for you wonderful readers! What a stupendous response to the last chapter! :)**

* * *

The Doctor sat down beside West, his hearts pounding. "I think the most important thing," he said to the man, "is to find out how to close the portal and get rid of the ship. I can help you if you tell me."

"I was not told how to close it," West rasped. "Only how to open it."

"I imagine it's pretty similar," the Doctor said, and then laid a hand on West's shoulder. "How did you open it? My friends are smart, they'll figure it out anyway, but things would go faster if you would tell me."

"Friends," West scoffed, and sagged further against the wall, if that was even possible. His eyelids were fluttering now, and the Doctor knew there were only minutes until he passed.

"There's not time for this," he muttered, and then gently shook the man beside him. "Listen, just hang on for a moment. Tell me about the Master." Hearts pounding harder, waiting for the response. Hoping West was present enough to answer.

He looked very human just then, with blood-stained teeth and the light in his eyes slowly fading as he looked up at the Doctor. Broken, with a terrible thing like excitement in his face. "I'll be rewarded," West said, his voice so faint that the Doctor could hardly hear it. And there was hope in West's expression, too, the same kind that the Doctor knew was on his own face as well. "He has a grand mission...a purpose, and I'll be...rewarded..."

"What was he trying to do?"

"He said...he found a...gro..." West's eyes closed, and he took what had to be his final breath.

"Please," the Doctor whispered. "Don't die. You have to tell me. I don't want to be alone. What about family? Talk to me. For them. West."

The man didn't reply, and when the Doctor felt for a pulse, there was none. And despite the fact that the human had been nothing but malicious and harmful, the Doctor felt the loss like a punch in the gut, another hole dug into his hearts. West had been so very wrong, but he'd only wanted the pain to go away. He'd been so desperate he'd teamed up with the Master, who he hadn't even been sure was alive anymore.

The Doctor stood, and felt the tears on his cheeks. He would have liked to say that it was West's death - treasuring all life and all that - but he knew that it wasn't. It was the death of information rather than the human on the ground. The death of any knowledge of the Master. The Doctor had no idea what he was planning, let alone if he was even living.

Almost mechanically, the Time Lord turned away from the corpse and faced the army of Cybermen still spilling endlessly into the open. The Avengers were faltering now, even the Hulk. The Doctor caught a glimpse of Steve, Clint, and Natasha heading toward him through the crowd of robots, all charred and exhausted. The Doctor wanted to lay down beside West again and go to sleep - he'd already caused these people enough pain, and he had no idea what was in store for them with the portal - but he remained upright and met the three with his most determined expression.

"I was right," Clint said, "there's a portal." He clutched his bow tightly, like a security blanket. His only real protection against the Cybermen. "How do we close it?"

"I have absolutely no idea," the Doctor told them. "West didn't answer me. We'll have to figure it out on our own."

"The Cybermen will know what we're up to as soon as we get close to the portal," Natasha put in. "We'll need a distraction. If we have enough time, Barton and I can figure it out."

Despite the fact that he didn't know these people very well, and he knew that they didn't completely trust him still, the Doctor felt a rush of pride. Human beings were wonderful, really. A somewhat elated feeling overcame him then, and he couldn't help but smile, startling the three across from him. "I'm great at distractions!" the Doctor proclaimed. "But I'll need to help you out, too, with the more spacy-wacey bits."

"I can take over," Steve offered. "What are we planning to do?"

"It won't be very complicated," the Doctor said, "so don't worry about that. I'm thinking...big speech. My usual. It's a very good distraction. They always get caught up in what I'm saying, so they usually don't notice when I have a few friends sneaking past. And the Cybermen still coming out of the portal will be too disoriented to really notice you lot working. Then, when they're alright again, they'll notice that Steve and I are doing a nice show and come over to check it out. No bother to you two at all. I'll have to come in later to help, but until then there's not a whole lot of risk."

Clint shook his head. "We can't let you leave to come help us, Doctor. If this is what you normally do, they won't expect you to leave. When you do, they'll get suspicious."

"I can handle-"

"And so can we," Natasha interrupted. "Just tell us what to do."

The Doctor was a little peeved, but finally sighed and agreed. "Oh, fine then. But I'll have to see it for a minute."

* * *

Natasha and Clint, as soon as they heard the Doctor's voice ringing out over the din of battle, took cover in the crumbling remains of the main room of the building. Cybermen were still pouring outside from a hole in the hall, leading to a room. The Doctor had gotten a very brief glimpse of the portal, and given the agents careful instructions and the strange tool he'd called a sonic screwdriver. Then, he'd run off with Steve to make a nice distraction.

Clint had folded up his bow and stashed it away, and Natasha had holstered her pistol. They wouldn't be able to use weapons on this mission. Both the bow and the gun were too loud, and would ruin their plan. Neither of the agents had been pleased, but they had accepted it and moved on. Dependancy on their weapons would distract them.

"You think you're so clever!" the Doctor was bellowing outside, just loud enough for Clint and Natasha to hear him as they sneaked toward the room. The Cybermen marching out of it were, as the Doctor had said, too disoriented to notice them, and there were no guards. They'd known they didn't have many fighters, and so hadn't felt the need to protect the portal.

"How should we do this?" Clint said in an undertone. "Fighting our way past them is impossible. There's a big enough space for us to slip in one at a time, but it would still be risky." Indeed, the Cybermen were coming out one by one. The doorway was wide enough that two regular-sized humans could have gone through at the same time, but the Cybermen were bulky and seemed to have chosen not the destroy the building any further. That would work to the Avengers' advantage.

"That's what we'll have to do," Natasha replied in the same low voice. "I'll go first." She adjusted her hold on the Doctor's odd screwdriver and started forward with Barton just behind her. She waited for the slight opening between Cybermen, and dashed into the room, spinning away from the oncoming robot with ease. This was the kind of thing she was trained for.

Clint came in next, with nearly as much grace as his partner. They'd both been almost entirely silent, and the Cybermen remained oblivious, thankfully. The Doctor had been right. Relief flooded through Natasha, but she pushed it back. They weren't done yet.

Neither dared to speak as they approached the portal. It was greenish-blue and opaque, rippling like water when the Cybermen stepped through it. There was a very thin silver ring around the outside of the portal, and it was embedded into the wall. If Natasha hadn't known what it was, she might have guessed that the Cybermen were simply stepping into this room from another behind the portal. A small control panel was located in the wall beside it, with flashing lights and buttons with writing on them that Natasha was unable to decipher. An alien language, clearly.

Silently, Clint and Natasha exchanged a look that clearly said, _what do we do now?_ The Doctor had given them the sonic screwdriver and blurted, "point and think," before he'd raced off. The Time Lord had also mentioned something called a deadlock seal that they'd have to disable, so they'd have to deal with that before using the tool.

_Okay_, Natasha thought, taking a deep breath to focus. _We need to figure this out._

They stayed out of the path of the arriving Cybermen, who continued to trudge past them without even sparing them a glance, and bent down beside the panel to examine it.

She stared the buttons down, knowing at some point she'd have to make a choice but determined to gain something from the strange writing before she picked one.

To her surprise, the strange symbols slowly morphed into English, just as she was reaching for a button that read _self-destruct._ She quickly pulled back, and re-scanned the control panel with wide eyes. When she glanced at Barton, she could see that he was as shocked as she was, although the only think that hinted to it was the slight twitch of his lips. She almost smirked, but held back. Turning back panel, she could now read that a switch several rows below the self-destruct button had the inscription of _seal_ on it. That had to be 'deadlock seal,' didn't it?

She would just have to go with it and hope for the best.

Clint nodded at her, and she flipped the switch and was greeted with a wailing alarm.

The Cybermen still stomping into the room suddenly froze and whirled toward them with the slightest of staggers and started coming at them.

Clint and Natasha swore at the same time, and Natasha quickly passed the sonic screwdriver to Hawkeye before she started going at the Cybermen coming quickly toward them. The room was rapidly filling up with robots, all headed toward the agents.

Agent Romanoff leaped over a Cyberman and grabbed it from behind, twisting it to her right and sending it tumbling into several of its counterparts. "Point and think!" she called to Barton.

"I know," he growled, aiming the screwdriver at the control panel with an intense expression. He pressed the button.

Nothing happened, and Natasha's wrist was caught in the grip of a Cyberman.

This one she also sent into its partners, and she kicked another robot square in the face. It staggered back, but it didn't stay down and was up again in minutes. "Clint!" she cried, and continued to fight wildy, slipping out of the Cybermen's hands and smacking them around. But although she certainly had strength and skill on her side, she didn't possess Steve or the Hulk's super-strength, and couldn't put the Cybermen out completely.

It wasn't like Barton was dumb, she thought absently as she fought to keep the robots away from her partner. She wondered why the Doctor's tool wasn't working for him. "What are you thinking of?" she yelled.

"It blowing up, like the Doctor did before with this place," Clint replied, and Natasha had a sinking feeling as he had to kick a Cybermen away from him. The robots were closing in on them. They didn't have much time.

"Try thinking about just closing the portal," she suggested, and then - the Cybermen stopped coming.

She didn't stop to let out the hoot of relief she wanted to, simply continuing to fight the Cybermen, now with Clint's help.

"Which is why your liittle portal has now been shut!" the Doctor's voice called, and it sounded now like he'd been handed a microphone. "They're brilliant, these humans. You can't bring them down!"

The Hulk came barreling into the room, avoiding the agents but crushing the Cybermen and the portal.

From outside, Thor let out a whoop of elation and the fight continued.

* * *

**I have an announcement to make - this story is officially done, with a total of ten chapters! Sorry all, but it didn't feel right to keep it going past ten. It didn't work out for the story, really. But exciting news - this means we're one step closer to the big one, folks, and quite possibly the most epic crossover story I'll ever write. I'm really excited, and I'm expecting the first chapter of the next little-ish crossover story to be up next week. More on that later.**

**As for the last chapter of this wonderful story, that will be posted either tomorrow, extremely early (if I have time!), or if we're lucky on Saturday. If we're not lucky, Monday or Tuesday. I'm going to Kentucky, and I don't know if there'll be wi-fi or not, so...yeah. It's possible that it'll also be up tomorrow afternoon, but again, that's all depending on wi-fi, so.**

**Please review this chapter, if you could. You guys have been really awesome at telling me what you think - 80 reviews as of posting this, that brilliant - so thank you. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Well...we're finally at the end, guys. It's been such a good ride, and I love you all. But hey, don't think the Doctor or the Avengers are done with each other yet. The Crossover's still coming, and it's going to be brilliant. More info about The Crossover in the bottom AN, and also on my profile. :)**

* * *

The Doctor, freshly showered and sporting a brand new outfit he'd taken from the TARDIS, stood before the mirror and made some final adjustments to his look as he contemplated the situation.

The Cybermen on Earth had eventually been defeated, leaving the Avengers and their alien prisoner to clean up. The police force had pulled out once they'd found that the situation was under control, and the street was empty. Tony's cars had, luckily, been mostly unharmed, so they took those back to Stark Tower.

The Doctor had fought the urge to collapse as they'd charged back to base, but had found a little more strength as he contacted the Cyberships with Tony's computers. Hope of possibly finding his worst enemy (and wasn't that a strange thing to hope for?) had fueled him. But he gained nothing from the brief interrogation he'd held with the Cybermen. The energy had drained out of him, and he'd sunk to the floor just as the ships scattered, as far out of his reach as they could get.

The world had spinned, his stomach had felt like it was trying to eat itself, and his head had pounded ferociously. Just as he had thought he'd pass out, cheese was forced into his mouth, and survival instinct had woken him up enough to allow him to scarf the food down. He'd been handed several sandwiches after that, and had continued to eat even as he was settled into a new room. Not his cell, to his surprise. A clean guest bedroom, with generic paint on the walls and a bed with light green sheets.

However, he hadn't been allowed to sleep right away. The Avengers had gathered around his bed, all wearing looks of determination and slight anxiety, and asked him about Gallifrey.

He'd thought he wouldn't be able to answer. He'd thought his throat would close up and his eyes would burn and when he closed them for just a second he'd be sucked into the safety of sleep. But instead, he'd just started talking. There was hardly any emotion in his voice as he spoke, but the others seemed to understand that it was simply lack of a better option rather than the idea that he simply didn't care. The words had come from his mouth relatively easily, and he'd recounted the story of the Time War, and the sacrifices he - and the entirety of Gallifrey as well - had had to make.

By the time he'd finished his tale, things were becoming too blurry to make out anything properly anymore. But he had been layed down, a strong hand - it couldn't be Thor's, could it? - lingering for an extra moment on his shoulder in a sympathetic fashion. And then the door had closed, putting him in almost total darkness, and he'd fallen asleep, realizing only when he'd woken up that the cuff had been removed from his wrist, and had not been replaced with handcuffs.

The feeling that had welled up in his chest was pure relief.

Now, standing before the mirror in the bathroom attatched to the guest room, he couldn't help but smile faintly. He was leaving today - he was sure everyone had realized that already. He couldn't stay here any longer. He had things to do, people to see. Before he died.

He wondered, his smile dropping instantly from his face, if he would end up dealing with the Master before his end. He had to, didn't he? If the Master was loose on the universe again, he had to stop him. Stop him for real. He couldn't look after the other Time Lord dead, after all.

His good mood now severely ruined, he ran a hand through his hair one last time with a frown and walked outside of his room.

The rest of the tower was seemingly silent. He had almost expected the Avengers to be somewhere nearby to keep an eye on him, but they were suspiciously absent. Uncertainly, the Doctor wandered over to the nearest elevator and pressed the down button. He didn't have to wait anymore than a few moments until the doors slid open and he was allowed inside. He pressed the button for the floor of the TARDIS and waited. The elevator music, to his amusement, was AC/DC. Tony's pick, of course, considering this was his tower.

And there was the TARDIS when the doors opened again on the new floor. Shiny, beautiful, humming faintly in his head with pleasure. He approached it and ran a hand down the side of the ship with a smile. She sighed contentedly.

Footsteps sounded, and the Doctor whirled around to face none other than the Avengers themselves, all wearing their suits. Except for Bruce, of course, who was looking quite human and even happy, with an easy smile on his face.

"What-" the Doctor began, but Bruce interrupted him.

"We have to go to a meeting with the mayor of the city," he explained. "Everyone's supposed to be in uniform."

"Ah. Well, good luck then."

"You too," Bruce said, and his expression turned serious. "You could stay another day, if you wanted. Get that other thing you haven't told us off your chest."

The Doctor's smile faltered somewhat. They were smarter than he'd given them credit for. They'd known Gallifrey wasn't his only secret. "No thanks. But thank you for the offer."

"Time Lord," Thor rumbled, and the Doctor stiffened slightly as the Asgardian approached. And then, to his surprise, put a hand on his shoulder. "You are most noble. I am deeply sorry for my accusations. I have caused you much pain. The story you told us last night was nothing but truth. I believe every word."

The Doctor blinked. "Really?"

Thor nodded. "I will tell my people of your bravery and innocence when I return to Asgard." Then, he broke into a large smile and clapped the Doctor painfully on the back. "You are welcome any time in the land of the gods!"

The Doctor couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you, Thor."

"Bruce is right, you could stay," Tony put in. The front of his helmet was back, revealing his face. "You could help us in the lab. Lots of fun experiments."

"Tempting," the Doctor said, and there was no small amount of truth in the word. "But no, sorry. I have...erm, an appointment."

Tony held out an armor-clad hand. At the Doctor's hesitation, he smirked, "I won't crush you, promise." With a little grin, the Time Lord accepted the offer and they shook. He repeated the ritual with Bruce, and tried to with Thor, but instead was wrapped into a hug.

Steve was smiling, and he shook hands with the Doctor next. "I'm sorry we trapped you here," he said.

"It all worked out fine," the Doctor dismissed, and then tapped the Captain America shield. "Do you have another one of those? Memorabilia and all that. I can say I've met you all now!"

"No," Steve said, "sorry. But actually..." he motioned for Clint to step forward, and the Doctor grinned wider when he saw the piece of fabric in the archer's hands. The Time Lord accepted the bowtie, untied but still clearly neckwear, and looked it over.

"Signed!" he exclaimed, and actually laughed out loud when Natasha passed him another untied bowtie, this one with little Avenger's symbols all over it. Apparently he'd reached them after they'd come up with their logo. "Wow! Wonderful! Fantastic! Brilliant!" He tucked them carefully into the same pocket as his sonic and quickly hugged Agent Romanoff, before she could pull away. She acted disgruntled when he released her, but her lips twitched and he could tell she didn't really mind all that much. He then heartily shook hands with Barton, complimenting him on his work with the portal, and then stepped back to find Nick Fury with a hand extended as well, which the Doctor also shook.

"Thank you for your help," Fury said, and actually smiled slightly. "If my team trusts you, then I guess I have to as well."

The Doctor mock bowed, grinning. "No problem! My pleasure."

"Will you come back to visit?" Bruce asked. "Really, Tony and I would love to have you in the lab."

A swell of gratitude overtook the last of the Time Lords for a moment. "Maybe," he replied, and found himself actually considering it. After he visited those seven galaxies in perfect unison, maybe. It was possible. "But probably not," he added, just in case. "But maybe."

"You'll be welcome," Dr. Banner assured him.

"Sure," Tony put in.

"Thank you," the Doctor said again, and took another step backwards, until the back of his head was brushing against the TARDIS' doors. "I think you'll like this part," he told them all with a wide grin, and snapped his fingers. The doors swung open, sending a more golden light flooding into the room. Everyone's eyes widened a little as they tried to get a good glimpse inside the TARDIS, and the Doctor took a little longer than usual to get inside to give them a show. Then he closed the door and ran up to the console.

He set the coordinates and pulled the big lever to send him off, and couldn't help but laugh as the TARDIS dematerialized.

The Doctor was free again.

* * *

The Avengers watched as the Doctor's ship faded into nothing, exchanging looks of disbelief and grinning.

"Now that's high-tech," Tony appreciated with a whistle.

"That's alien," Steve reminded him. "We don't even have that kind of technology."

"That doesn't mean I can't dream, Cap," Iron Man huffed, and mocked stomping off.

Thor chuckled. "You two are most amusing," he said.

"Everyone quit it," Fury said, motioning for them to cut it out. "We have that meeting soon."

"Yeah, I'm so looking forward to sitting around with a bunch of stuffy losers to talk about the destructon we caused," Tony scoffed. "We all know that's what's going to happen."

Clint nodded, already looking bored. "Yeah."

"We should get something to eat before we leave," Captain America suggested, already heading in the direction of the kitchen.

"I wouldn't say no to a burger," Tony agreed.

"When you're done with that, hurry up and get to city hall," Director Fury told them, taking an extra moment to glare at Tony.

"What?"

"You'd all better show up," Fury said, and then headed off.

Clint smirked a little in Tony's direction, and they all started following Steve to the kitchen.

It was as they were just coming into the room that Bruce noticed the abnormal brightness of it. Everything looked sort of...white-washed. All except the others, who were also all looking a little confused, and appeared unaffected by the light. It was like they were standing under the normal kitchen lighting, but the kitchen itself was...

"Does anybody else see this?" Bruce asked, and to his alarm it sounded like he was talking underwater. His words were garbled, hardly understandable. And when he moved his hand to touch a countertop in disbelief, it felt like he was moving through syrup.

"What the hell!" Tony exclaimed as the brightness grew. Bruce almost had to shield his eyes it was so blinding. Light seemed to be streaming from every surface in the room except the Avengers themselves, who were dark blotches of color against the whiteness. And then there was something like an earthquake, and Bruce felt like his stomach had been turned completely upside down. It felt like the room was spinning, and everything was fading into whiteness and then there was a startling, sickening, heart-wrenching darkness, like nightmares and monsters and middle-of-the-night screams and then-

Bruce came to lying on his back on cool, lush grass, the sun bright in his eyes. Things were no longer white, or black, but pleasantly lit by daylight. He blinked, bewildered, and reached up to cover his eyes. Even such a simple movement was sluggish and delayed, and in the process his fingers brushed against a familiar fabric...Steve's uniform.

Steve was, thankfully, still in it, lying face down with his head turned in Bruce's direction. He looked dazed and confused, staring at Bruce, who stared right back. He became aware of a pounding headache.

Bruce wanted to say something, but his voice didn't appear to be working, and he could do nothing but open his mouth and then close it again, still on the ground with his head now turned to look at Steve and a hand guarding his eyes.

A mumble that sounded like Tony's voice came from the other side of Steve, and Bruce spotted the glint of his friend's suit as he moved slightly.

"Greetings," a voice with a thick Irish accent said from somewhere beyond Bruce's feet. Slowly, he sat up, although it was certainly a struggle. Beside him, he could see Steve doing the same. "You are probably all very confused, but please be patient. You will get answers soon."

The source of the voice, Bruce found when he had achieved an upright position, was a teenaged boy with black hair and two different eye colors. One of his eyes was a piercing, icy blue, while the other was a soft hazel. The boy wore a slim, well-tailored suit, and very much had the feeling of money about him. He was spinning slowly in a circle, as if addressing more people that just the Avengers, and Bruce saw several others on the other side of the boy.

He had the impression that there were far more people than what he could see, but the only ones he could easily spot were also teens, and were dirty, sick-looking, shocked, and tearful. He could also see two young men in their twenties, for some reason with guns and salt in their hands. A group of teens and children, woozily sitting up. Bruce thought he caught a glimpse of feathers.

The teenage boy turned again, and now he was looking directly at Bruce, and the doctor could easily see the brilliance in his eyes. A young genius, he thought. But what was he doing here? What were any of them doing here?

What had happened? Where had the light come from? What was the purpose of it?

"My name is Artemis Fowl," the boy announced. "Welcome."

* * *

_To be Continued_

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN DUNNNNN.**

**Guys, I am so glad you've all been here throughout this story. I've gotten such a good response to this, so thank you so much. It's been great, and this is my very first finished story, so that's just fantastic. :)**

**I had a question about The Crossover in the comments, so I'll just have a little explanation here in this AN. There's also one on my profile.**

**Essentially, The Crossover is exactly what it sounds like. A crossover story. Except with more than simply two or three different fandoms intertwined - currently, I have sixteen pretty much ready to go. Things will be added and taken away from that list of fandoms as I work through the little crossovers - such as this one - leading up to it, but I'm hoping for about twenty by the time I'm finished. Basically, it's going to be awesome. I can't give you all the premise of it yet (that would be spoiling it for you), but I can tell you that it's going to be fun, and crazy, and angsty, and dramatic, and awesome. If you would like more information, PM me and I would love to give you as much as I can without totally spoiling everything for you. :)**

**In related news, the next crossover leading up to The Crossover is a nice little Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Kane Chronicles thing of an estimated six or seven chapters. Of course, that number could change, but I was pretty accurate in guessing this story's length, so yeah. It is not necessary to read that crossover (untitled as of posting this) to read and enjoy The Crossover, but it is strongly recommended. It'll be useful in filling in a few possible holes in the story for you all. And if you haven't read Percy Jackson or the Kane Chronicles, I suggest you do. It will enrich your reading experience if you choose to check out that story. Plus, they're both by the same author and super good. (The first Percy Jackson book is called The Lightning Thief, and the first Kane Chronicles book is The Red Pyramid in case you needed that information.)**

**Anyway, I'd just like to give another huge thank you to all of you reading this. I really appreciate it, and I've been seriously happy because of all your lovely thoughts and your support. So thank you so, so, so much.**

**As always, I would love to hear your opinions on this final chapter. I may do some edits with it if I end up unhappy with it later, but for now it'll stay as it is. I would also really enjoy your thoughts on The Crossover and that Percy Jackson/Kane Chronicles thing I'm working on. If you have any suggestions, I will gladly take them into consideration. I love hearing from you all, and you're all just brilliant.**

**Thank you again, and stay tuned. :)**

**- hiholly**


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